


Lovers & Dreamers

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Just Say Lass [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: (a million sweating emojis), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Rylen (Dragon Age), Bisexuality, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Complicated Relationships, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Discussions of Safe Sex, Dom/sub Play, Double Penetration, Edging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Infidelity, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fade Sex, Fertility Issues, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Infertility, Jealousy, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Masturbation, Modern Kirkwall, Modern Thedas, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Navigating Complex Emotions, Not Canon Compliant, OT3, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Female Character, POV Original Male Character, POV Rylen (Dragon Age), Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyandry, Polyfidelity, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sex, Praise Kink, Self-Discovery, Sexuality Awakening, Smut, Switching, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Fade, Therapy, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, communicating like adults, mildly, very little to do with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 82,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: When vivid dreams begin to plague Abigail, she finds herself feeling more than a little guilty waking up next to her husband flush with pleasure from a mysterious stranger she keeps meeting in the Fade.When the mysterious stranger turns out to be real and has his own recollections of their times in the Fade, she struggles as she finds herself torn between two different kinds of love.Until, that is, they realize there may be a solution that's more than agreeable to all three of them.





	1. In the Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Long Author's Note ahead, apologies but also important.
> 
> All right - this fic is tagged to high heaven with things that aren't all necessarily happening in Chapter 1 or even 2 or 3 (although smut will begin with Chapter 1). But I'd rather let it be known up front where this fic is headed - because my secret crack ship and OT3 pairing has been calling to me and I cannot resist this AU idea now that I've fully formed it. I feel a bit like stretching my writing and smut skills and exploring a complicated kind of relationship I haven't before. It could end up a disaster, who knows - I won't know unless I try to challenge myself.
> 
> So all I can say is - pay attention to the tags. Some may be added as we go along, and I'll add notes to the start of chapters to let you know if/when that happens so you can check them again. I'm fairly certain I've covered almost all of my bases - but if I haven't and I missed something glaring that should be tagged, please do let me know. I'd rather be told to tag for something for everyone's comfort than have something bother someone.
> 
> Also for those who are familiar with my Abigail and John canon - this is much closer to the canon that is featured in Your Arms Feel Like Home. Abigail is from Thedas, as is John - and while their relationship may have had a complicated start, John has never cheated on her. They have a few other issues, which will be explored here. This fic will have little to do with DA canon, but *shrug* I'm writing and sharing it here anyway in case you're interested in reading. (Also, still - *swoon* Rylen.)
> 
> Now, sorry for rambling in a super long note! I just wanted to make certain that it's clear that this fic will be complicated and handle things that aren't everyone's cup of tea. So please just keep up with tags, but also - enjoy!
> 
> xx,  
> Lara

Abby stretched where she sat on the side of the bed, trying her best to pull herself fully out of slumber. Lately the Fade had been projecting her stress, the toils of her new job and adjusting after the move, not to mention the stresses of - well...

She heaved a sigh and pushed herself to her feet finally, thinking that maybe after work she’d go to that gym Dorian had recommended to her the other day. After all, a calming, soothing hot yoga session followed by some time in a sauna sounded perfect, and he had said they offered both.

Downstairs she heard the front door open and close, and she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. John must be back from his morning jog already, and she smiled a little to herself as his footsteps fell heavily on the stairs.

“That was fast,” she told him when he walked into the bedroom.

“It’s colder than I expected,” he said. “Still adjusting to these temperatures, they’re - well it’s just different, that’s all.”

She hummed slightly in response to his words and reached for her phone, intending to check her emails. She usually had something from her editor by now, or something else that required her attention, even this time of morning.

“We - we have that follow-up with the specialist tomorrow and not today, right?” John asked hesitantly as he moved about the room stripping out of his clothing.

“Yes, at eleven thirty,” Abby answered. Her insides twisted slightly as she thought about it, as she considered one of the reasons they had moved. Nerves about what they might discover or be told made her bury her attention in the screen of her phone, not raising her gaze to John heading into the bathroom.

“Work may go late tonight again, with everything going on,” he called from the bathroom. “But if it doesn’t did you - want to have dinner? We could try one of the restaurants nearby.”

She smiled to herself and locked the screen of her phone to set it aside. “Dinner sounds wonderful,” she told him. She continued to smile as she moved about the room, gathering her silk blouse and slacks before she wandered into the bathroom. Through the glass shower stall she could see John washing himself, and she smirked as she took in the sight of him.

Eight years now, and she was still just as giddy around him as she had been that first night. She watched as the water and soap suds ran down his body, and bit her lip as she wondered if they had enough time before they both needed to get to work. They didn’t, and she held back a sigh as she instead began her skincare regimen. Later - maybe later, after the date he was suggesting, if he had time. She hoped he had time.

Pushing aside the memories of their recent stress, of the last year, she instead focused on fixing her hair and dressing for the day ahead. When he finally got out of the shower and had toweled himself dry he walked forward, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“You look wonderful as always, Gorgeous,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck before he placed a kiss beneath her ear. “I wish it was Saturday.”

“Me too,” she sighed. “Are you here this weekend?”

“I am,” he assured her. “I’m all yours, I promise.”

Her heart swelled at the words and she turned to look at him over her shoulder, smiling brightly. He returned the smile and eagerly leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. After a moment he slanted his mouth, parting her lips so that he could search out her tongue, sliding his gently as if savoring the taste of her. One hand slid into her hair, holding her to him as he devoured her in a kiss.

Several long moments passed before he finally pulled away, both of them almost gasping breathlessly as their gazes met. “I should - get dressed,” he murmured, and pressed his lips against her forehead before he released her. “Otherwise I’ll run us both late to work.”

Abby giggled and nodded, looking down at the eyeshadow palette she had been holding. She tried to refocus on the task of getting ready, trying to ignore the fact that she knew these few days were the best time. Later, they still had time - it was the first day of the window, and after dinner they could spend all night in bed if they wanted.

With that happy thought she finished getting ready, fluffing her hair one last time before she left the large master bathroom. John was straightening his tie, standing before his large wood dresser. He opened the dark wood valet that rested on top and picked up a set of cufflinks, looking them over before he began to put them on. When Abby walked up behind him she noticed they were the Serpentstone pair she’d given him for his birthday, and she smiled.

“I hope you have a good day, Handsome,” she murmured, straining on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You too, Kitten,” he returned. “Still working on that article you said might go on the front page?”

“Mmhmm,” she answered as she slipped her heels on.

“Good girl,” he said with a smirk. “I can’t wait to read it.”

“It’s due by this evening, so hopefully you’ll be reading it with your coffee tomorrow,” she told him.

“Perfect,” he agreed, and he pulled his suit jacket on. “I’ll let you know about dinner as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she said softly as she followed him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

They had finally finished unpacking all of the boxes and organizing everything, and the apartment was on the verge of beginning to feel like home. John passed the large, immaculate kitchen and took his keys off the hooks on the wall, turning around to give her a smile as he pulled his black wool coat on.

“Until later, Gorgeous,” he said, and he left.

Abby grabbed her large glass tumbler and filled it with the smoothie John had made for her before he left for his jog, just as he did every morning. She lamented that it wasn’t coffee, but she hadn’t had coffee in months.

Or anything good, really. Instead she took one of the prenatal vitamins he had left out for her before she grabbed her coat and purse.

The ride down from the penthouse gave her plenty of time to check her phone again for emails as she sipped her smoothie. Work was only a few blocks away, and the brisk walk to The Herald’s office still felt exciting and new. The transfer had been a good opportunity - and it still meant the world to her that she had been able to take it, that John had accepted a position at the Kirkwall branch of his firm even though he had loved his work in the Imperium.

Now as she took her seat behind her desk in the newsroom she looked at the stack of papers piled in front of her computer and actually felt excited. Burying herself in her work, in writing the article she’d been researching for the last two weeks let her take her mind off everything else.

Whatever happened tomorrow would happen, and they could deal with it then.

When her phone beeped with a message and she swiped the screen open, she was surprised to see that almost two hours had already passed. She felt as if she had just sat down.

_Handsome Man (sent 9:45am): Kitten - I missed a  dinner with a potential client on my calendar tonight. I’m so sorry but I’ll have to take a rain check on our date, I don’t know how long this will go. They could be a massive account, I need to turn on the charm. I’ll make it up to you, though. I promise._

Abby sighed as she read the text, feeling disappointed even though she knew how important his work was to him.

_Of course, no problem. Woo away, I’ll see you whenever you get home. But mark date night for tomorrow on your calendar so no other clients steal you away. Xoxo._

She set her phone down once more and went back to her article, hating that she’d stopped mid-sentence when she received the message. As she reread a hand patted her on the shoulder and she glanced up into the bright blue eyes of her red-haired editor.

“Abigail,” Leliana greeted. “Your article will be ready tonight, yes?”

“Should be, I’ll probably finish up by lunch time and then spend the afternoon editing and getting it ready,” Abby answered with a smile.

“Excellent,” Leliana agreed. “When you’re done I’d like to go over some of the other assignments I have available - I have a few I think you’d be interested in,” she winked as she said it, “so you may be a little late tonight, if that’s all right.”

Abby picked up on her meaning, realizing it had to be something to do with mages if she wanted to speak with her about it privately. Just for her own comfort she hadn’t been open with anyone but her editor that she was a mage. Leliana had been more than thrilled to hire an investigative reporter from the Imperium and had readily agreed to keep it secret - and also offer her interesting, relevant assignments. “Of course, I just found out my plans were cancelled so,” she shrugged, “I can stay as long as you need me.”

“Wonderful,” Leliana said, circling Abby’s desk to continue on her way. “I’ll let you get back to it, just wanted to see if you were interested.”

“Thank you, Leliana,” Abby told her, and she went back to trying to figure out where the sentence she had left off had been going.

Now that she didn’t have dinner to look forward to, time seemed to move more slowly, but she tried to keep her disappointment in check.

Tomorrow, that was all.

 

* * *

 

The bar was almost foggy, not unlike how it would be if smoking was still allowed inside. Yet it was mostly because it seemed half-formed, like a memory from years ago that he was struggling to remember, something the lyrium had taken from him. And he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing just before this - how had he gotten here?

“You lost?” a soft, posh voice greeted him, and he turned toward its source.

A beautiful lass was sitting at a candlelit table, a large glass of wine in front of her and a cigarette between two fingers. Her hair was dark with slightly golden tips, and barely brushed her collarbone as it framed her face in shiny, voluminous strands. She was wearing a black dress and a smirk, taking in the sight of him likely looking lost and confused.

“I - might be,” Rylen answered once he’d gotten over the surprise of seeing such a fetching lass here.

She giggled lightly and then gestured at the chair across from her. “May as well make yourself comfortable while you’re here. Need a drink?”

“Whiskey would be nice,” he said, and he took the chair she’d gestured at. A glass of whiskey sat waiting for him, and he gratefully picked it up and sipped from it. Smooth, and delicious - but it didn’t burn or sting as it usually did. And that’s when he realized - “Ah, I’m - right. Dreaming.”

“There it is,” she agreed, and she smiled when he met her gaze. “Knew you’d probably figure it out eventually.”

“So are you - um -” he began, but he trailed off, not wanting to insult her in case he was mistaken.

“I’m not a demon, of course,” she finished for him. “Just enjoying my little slice of the Fade, indulging myself a bit.” As she said it she gestured the cigarette before she took a deep drag. No smell came from it, but smoke curled around her as she let out a long, slow exhale. “It’s not the same, but it’s close,” she told him.

“Indulging some bad habits?” he teased, taking a long drink from his whiskey. It didn’t look as if he’d had any, staying the same amount as when he’d first picked it up.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she took a sip of wine. “I’ve had to give them both up, and for once the Fade is letting me just relax. Exactly what I needed. Well - almost.”

He chuckled and looked her over, noticing the look of her long, thin fingers holding her bare upper arm, the full pink lips that wrapped around the cigarette when she took another drag. There was something about her that made his mind wander, and he cleared his throat and looked down into his whiskey glass. “Almost?” he prompted.

“Wine and cigarettes are all well and good but after the day I had, I just need a good fuck,” she told him. After a moment she giggled and shook her head. “Sorry, I - didn’t mean to overshare. Long day, longer one tomorrow, and I’m just - surprised to have company.”

“I can go, if I’m a bother,” he offered, though he wasn’t entirely certain that was the case. He didn’t even know how he’d found his way to this corner of the Fade - his dreams were never this vivid or lucid, and he felt out of his element, uncertain what had brought him here.

“No, you’re fine,” she assured him. She took a sip of wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. “Actually you’re more than fine.”

Rylen quirked an eyebrow in response to the suggestive tone of her voice, and he leaned forward, reaching for her hand as he did. He let his fingers gently caress hers as he held them, running his thumb over her knuckles. She was staring at how he was carefully interlacing his fingers with hers, chewing her lip as if considering something. “You know, you don’t have to just sit here alone, lass.”

“Oh?” she asked, and when she raised her chocolate brown eyes to his she looked thoughtful, letting her gaze wander over his face. “What would you suggest, then?”

“I can think of a few things,” he said slowly. “There are plenty of ways to work off stress, even here. Or maybe especially here.”

Her eyebrows rose high on her forehead, but after a moment she turned her hand in his and began to stroke his fingers in return. “Why the Voids not,” she murmured. “After all you’re quite attractive, and for some reason my dreams are being kind to me tonight. Show me what you have in mind.”

It was always interesting how the Fade responded so easily to thought, removing obstacles and changing to fit what was needed. Things shifted without him having to actually move, so that he found himself sitting at the side of the table, able to reach her easily where she sat facing him.

He slid his free hand along her thigh, watching her face carefully before he slipped it between her legs. Her thighs parted, and he twisted his other hand into her hair to pull her in for a kiss as he began to rub his fingers along her slit. His lips muffled the moan that met his searching touch, his tongue dancing with hers as he used his fingers to circle around her clit.

There was an urgency in both of them, their kiss and her panting moans rapidly becoming more desperate. He found himself hoping he could enjoy this longer before he woke up. When her fingers found the fastenings of his pants he shifted to give her better access, pulling away from the kiss with a groan as she began to stroke his hard cock.

“Let me fuck you,” he breathed against her lips. “Over this table, conjure a bed - anything, lass - please -”

“Over this table works,” she agreed in a whisper.

He hardly waited before he pulled her from her chair, spinning her away from him before he bent her over the table. Pushing the skirt of her dress up he gripped her hips and easily slid himself into her. It felt real, her wet and tight and throbbing slightly around him, as if he actually had her beneath him. She moaned deeply as he began to thrust, her nails clawing at the table as the cheeks of her ass bounced against his hips in response to his quick pace.

Soft strings of curses left her as he continued fucking into her, and he noticed foreign words mingling with her cries, soft phrases that almost sounded - Tevene? “Touch me - please, I want - fasta vass - I want to see if I can come, please,” she whimpered.

“Aye, of course,” he told her, and he reached a hand around to the front of her to resume stroking her pearl as he had been before.

“Oh Maker - yes, you feel - fasta - Maker, yes,” she panted, and he realized he could feel her fluttering around him. “I am - I’m going to - fuck I’m coming!”

Rylen tightened the hand that held her hips, slowing down so that he could try to feel her climax as it happened. She was clenching at him, rolling her hips and almost sobbing as she writhed where she laid on the table. When she finished she went slightly limp, and Rylen leaned down to kiss her on the cheek before he began moving again.

Only something shifted, the Fade twisted and suddenly he was alone, staring around at white fog -

Rylen’s eyes flew open and he looked around, trying to take in the darkness of his bedroom. He was hard, almost aching, and he reached a hand down to his cock. Picturing the beautiful lass writhing beneath him as she had been he began to stroke himself quickly. It didn’t even take a minute before he came, his spend coating his stomach as he moaned and shuddered.

It took him a long time to come back to himself, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to recover his senses. He finally glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, and heaved a sigh when he realized his alarm would be going off in a few minutes anyway so that he could get ready for work.

Lying in bed as he waited for his alarm, he thought over the dream, wondering how he had found his way to another dreamer’s corner of the Fade. Everything he knew, even from having been a Templar, did little to explain how that had happened so randomly. Maybe he’d look into it later. Or maybe it didn’t matter, a one time occurrence that he’d continue to think fondly of in the future.

In the meantime he needed to clean himself up and get ready for work.

His alarm clock began to ring, and he reached over to turn it off, mind still reeling as he wondered over the lass he had taken so brazenly in a dream.

 

* * *

 

The feeling of something slightly wet on his cheek pulled John from slumber, a moan leaving him as he realized he also felt a soft hand tentatively caressing his cock. Another kiss was pressed to his cheek, and the fingers wrapped around him increased their speed as if in response to the way he was rapidly hardening.

“John? You awake?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, turning his head so that she could kiss his lips instead of his cheek. The kiss was lazy, and he reached a hand to her breast as he sloppily tangled his tongue with hers.

After several moments she pushed herself up, swinging a leg over so that she was straddling him, fingers stroking his cock a few more times before she guided him into her. She was absolutely dripping wet, and throbbed around him as soon as he was resting deep within her. A softly muttered curse slipped from her throat, and then she began to thrust without waiting another moment. John gripped her hips, savoring the sight of her moving above him now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark.

He let her set the pace, simply providing her leverage with his hands under her ass as she took him into her again and again, letting out cries and whimpers each time she did. Still, after all this time, the sight of her falling apart above him as she sobbed his name was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. He watched as she arched her neck and trembled, grinding her hips down into his as she tried to prolong her orgasm.

When she was finished he wrapped an arm around her lower back and rolled her over, taking his place above her. The pace he took up was relentless, and he enjoyed the sight of her breasts bouncing in response to how he was pounding himself into her. She nodded eagerly, biting her lower lip and wrapping her legs around his hips to hold him inside her as she could tell he was getting closer. He thrust deep, clutching her waist where he held it as if he needed to hold on for dear life in response to his release.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she moaned softly, legs tightening slightly as she smiled beneath him. “Handsome - mmm, that was - _fasta vass._ ”

John chuckled breathlessly and leaned down, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. “I’m glad you woke me up, Kitten,” he told her. “When I came home you were already asleep.”

“I was exhausted, you got home so late and I had a long day at work,” she said with a sigh.

He mirrored the action as he rolled off of her onto his back. The dinner with his client had run so long, and he’d been distracted during it, merely wanting to be at home, in bed with her. Having to start over, building so many new relationships with clients was exhausting and eating up too much of his free time. All he could hope was that it would slow down soon.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured finally. He glanced to where she lay beside him, taking in the way she had her knees pulled into her chest, arms wrapped around them. A soft smile came to his face as he watched her rock herself a little, but he noticed a frown on her face. “Are you all right, Kitten?”

“Hm?” She glanced at him with wide eyes, as if coming out of some deep thought. “Oh - just - the usual. I can’t help it, every time I always just lay here and wonder if - maybe this was the time.”

“Is it - is it the right time?” he asked, realizing he’d lost track.

She nodded her head and then shot him a timid smile. “Maybe this _is_ the time - and we go tomorrow and then in a month call them and say ‘thanks for the help but we’ve got it!’” A soft giggle followed her words, but there was a pensive, far off look in her eyes. Whatever thoughts she was having, she seemed to be keeping them to herself. “Are you - are you nervous?” she asked suddenly.

“Yes,” he confessed softly. “But whatever they tell us, we’ll figure it out together.”

Abby nodded her head and resumed staring up at the sheer canopy above them. “You’re right.”

“So - I take it you had good dreams in the Fade?” he teased, but he noticed a furtive frown come to her face. It passed so quickly he almost wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Just - a memory,” she said haltingly after a moment. “Playing together on my birthday. I woke up after you let me come finally - and I just had to wake you up. Hope you don’t mind, I know it’s early -”

As she said it his alarm began to sound, but he reached over quickly to turn it off. He considered the time for a moment, thinking about how she almost seemed like something was bothering her. They had a long day ahead of them, and he knew they both had to be stressed thinking about the appointment they had that morning.

He decided to skip his jog, and instead he pulled her into his arms, resting her head on his chest. She nuzzled into him, clinging to him tightly as he stroked her hair with a hand. “I don't mind, Kitten,” he murmured. “I love you. No matter what, no matter what happens or what challenges we face - know that.”

“I love you too, Handsome,” she breathed.


	2. Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ao3 messed up my tags the other day when I posted chapter 1 from a draft, so no tags have changed but I did reorder them because *eye twitch* they were bugging me.
> 
> xx

He refreshed his emails one more time, but they were still the same - nothing new. Impulsively he did it again, fidgeting with the touchscreen before he closed his emails and instead opened up the news app he preferred. Again, a refresh showed nothing he hadn’t read in the last fifteen minutes.

“Of course they’re running late,” Abby grumbled softly beside him. “I feel like I need to go to the loo but of course as soon as I try to go they’ll call us. Every damn time.”

“I can tell them to wait, if you like,” John told her. “I don’t want you uncomfortable, Gorgeous.”

“There’s no helping that,” she sighed, and she reached over to rest her hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

Finally locking his phone he put it in his jacket pocket and reached for her fingers. His insides were twisting, and he kept almost gulping each time he swallowed. Trying to distract himself by looking around the room did nothing to help take his mind off it all - if anything, it only made things worse. The walls were white, the furniture and carpet light beige, almost white as well, until everything almost felt _sterile._

The word and feeling did nothing to help his frame of mind. He wondered if they had thought this was welcoming décor when they chose it, or if they had decided minimalist would be soothing. He had half a mind to tell them in this situation, it certainly was not.

Abby turned her hand and interlaced her thin, ring-bedecked fingers with his. He gently rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, looking around them once more. When he caught the eye of a few of the other waiting patients in the room, though, he quickly glanced away and instead found himself staring at the large diamond on his wife’s finger.

Earlier that morning he had assured her they would face this all together, and yet he still found himself wondering where bad news would leave them. After a year of stressing over this, a year of feeling strained, they had actually chosen to move in an attempt at a fresh start as if that could solve things. He worried bad news now would be the final straw for both of them. They seemed happy enough, when they weren’t thinking about this - and the last few days, with this appointment and hopefully answers coming, they had been slightly happier than they had been in a long time.

Ever since she woke him up that morning he’d noticed a slight distance in her, and all he could think was that she had to be as nervous as he was. Yet she had woken up insatiable from the Fade, and had been more than content to lay in his arms after without talking much. The strangely pensive look in her dark eyes made him want to ask - but he let her keep to herself, respecting that perhaps she was bracing herself for whatever news they may get.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rullus?”

John glanced up from where he had been stroking the back of Abby’s hand, and after a moment to recognize that the nurse had called them he released her and pushed himself to his feet. He placed a hand on her lower back as he always did, guiding her through the waiting room to the hallway the nurse was waiting beside.

“And how are you both today?” the nurse asked with a cheery smile.

Abby plastered on the fake smile he recognized well and forced a short laugh. “Oh, wonderful,” she answered dryly. “It’s a wonderful day to find out if I can be a mother or not.”

The nurse laughed, but it almost seemed like a nervous, uncertain laugh, and then she simply gestured for them to continue to follow her down the hallway. “Apologies for the delay, so many patients this morning,” she told them. “In here if you will. The doctor will be in shortly, but first…”

Abby and John took their seats before the desk, and John moved his chair slightly closer to Abby’s when he had a moment. The nurse turned on the computer and began to ask questions, making certain everything was correct before she sent for the doctor. John answered mildly, simply giving the answers requested, but Abby almost seemed irritated. He reached across to her hand, taking it in his to reassure her as they answered basic, repetitive questions about themselves.

Finally the nurse stood up, taking the clipboard she held with her. “Dr. Arianni will be in soon,” she told them with a cheery smile, then departed the room.

Abby shifted in her seat, looking around at the walls covered in a few pieces of art and a hanging display of brochures and pamphlets. John tried to keep his focus on the sight of her hand in his, on the few thin rings she wore and the sparkling coming from her ring finger. But she fidgeted her hand in his and eventually pulled away, and when he glanced up at her he saw her cross her legs and fold her arms.

“You all -” he began, but before he could check on her a knock sounded on the door as it opened.

“Hello again,” the doctor greeted, and she circled the desk to set the clipboard she held down before turning to face them. She offered a hand to John and he accepted it with a smile he worried looked more like a grimace, releasing it so that she could take Abby’s hand next.

“So good to see you both, I’m terribly sorry for the wait.” Dr. Arianni brushed a few loose strands of reddish gold hair behind her pointed ear as she took her seat, and she logged onto the computer. “How are you both doing today?”

“Nervous,” Abby admitted almost immediately.

“Completely understandable,” the doctor told her, giving her a kind smile that pulled up the vallaslin on her chin. But she wasn’t as cheery as she had been the first time they met with her, and John’s insides felt as if they were twisting themselves into knots with worry. “Well, let’s get to it, if you don’t have any questions before we begin?” At the negative murmurs they both gave, she continued. “I’ve gone over your test results, and - let’s start with yours, Mrs. Rullus.”

Instinctively John reached for Abby’s hand, only to find her doing the same. He took her fingers in his and squeezed, worrying he was crushing her as he tried to lend her his support.

“The results were incredibly positive,” Dr. Arianni began. “Everything that we tested came back with what we wanted to see. Healthy eggs, regular ovulation - you’re incredibly fertile, Mrs. Rullus, and still have many childbearing years in your future.”

“I - I do?” Abby said, a look of total surprise coming across her face. She turned wide eyes to John, squeezing his fingers before a sharp frown came to her face. “But we’ve - I mean, we’ve been trying for over a year and we - I mean, we’ve tried _frequently_. Like insanely frequently. How - how has it not…” She trailed off and looked John’s way once more, and her fingers suddenly tightened on his as she pressed her lips together.

“Mr. Rullus,” Dr. Arianni began again, slowly this time. “I’m afraid I have bad news. The results of your tests and samples showed - well, without further testing, blood work and a more involved physical exam, I cannot determine the exact cause. Suffice it to say, there is - a definite chance that you will be unable to conceive a child, based on all of the tests we did run. I am - sorry, truly.”

John’s mind was blank, trying to wrap around the words. When he glanced aside at Abby he saw her eyes swimming with unshed tears, fingers pressed to her lips. He looked away from her once more, unable to take in the sight. Clearing his throat he shifted in his seat, mind slowly beginning to work as a plethora of questions formed. “Is there - is there anything we can do? Treatments? Surgery? I - we sought out this clinic for its specialties, anything - magical, even? I -”

“I understand this is a lot to process, for both of you,” Dr. Arianni softly interrupted his list of questions. “There are few possible options, but none of them are guaranteed to work, and most of them are invasive and expensive without any certainty that they will be successful.”

“Money isn’t an issue,” John insisted, and he glanced aside at Abby once more. She was staring at him with such a heartbreaking look on her face, love and support reflected in warm pools of chocolate brown. But he felt his cheeks heat and looked away from her love, struggling with a sudden sense of unworthiness. “Is it - is it my age? I know that I’m older than most men trying to conceive, since I’m nearing fifty -”

“Age could be a _potential_ factor,” the doctor conceded. “But without further testing I cannot be one hundred percent certain, and I’d rather not give you any false information. I would like to emphasize, though, that it is not your fault, it’s not anything you did. From everything shown in our initial tests, it seems to be how your body likely always has been. It simply does not produce as it should.”

The words sounded like hollow assurances, his mind still fixated on the idea that he had waited too long and now his body was failing him - failing Abby as well. The sudden realization came upon him that not once in twenty years of marriage to Constance had they ever had a serious pregnancy scare or come close to conceiving even when they weren’t careful. And even early on when he had taken up with Abby, when they had lost themselves in the heat of the moment and he had worried he would get her pregnant so young - yet that hadn’t ever happened.

The truth of the doctor’s words finally sank in, and his mind reeled until he simply felt numb. He pulled his hand from Abby’s, struggling against everything.

“I would suggest taking some time to process this, maybe find someone to speak with,” Dr. Arianni continued. “We have counselors we can refer you to, who are well-equipped to deal with this scenario. Seeking them out together and individually would be beneficial, as you try to come to terms with everything.”

“What about other options? You said Abby is fertile, we can -” John began.

“John, I’d rather - I’d rather take some time,” Abby interrupted. When he met her gaze he saw a pained frown on her face. “This is a lot to process, I - I don’t want to jump straight into talking about other options -”

“We still want a family, though. I just - there’s no reason we can’t consider trying another way, or -”

“Please, John,” Abby implored him. “I think she’s right, take some time and - and talk about this before we make any rash decisions after receiving news - like - this.”

A heavy silence followed her words, and John rested his arm on the armrest, leaning his chin on one fist. He was staring at the bookshelf against one wall without really seeing it or taking in anything happen around him. He was vaguely aware of hearing Abby ask the doctor for referrals to the counselors, asking for an appointment within a week. But when she asked him his schedule he shrugged and told her he’d have to check.

What good would talking about it do? Talking wouldn’t help his body do what it was meant to, what it was supposed to. He had known this was a possibility, but it was as if his mind hadn’t thought this could or would really happen. With a sickening feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, he realized he had been assuming the issue was Abby - he hadn’t expected that he was the one letting them down.

He was hardly aware of the rest of the appointment, listening to Abby speak softly with the doctor. Shaking her hand once they had stood and were ready to depart was almost comical, thanking her for delivering such devastating news. The kind look in her large, green eyes as she bid them farewell just felt like twisting the knife in further.

John followed Abby from the office, walking quickly through the waiting room without making eye contact with anyone as they passed. Once outside beside the car, Abby stopped, turning to face him as she rested her hands on his chest.

“Handsome -”

“I need to get back to work,” he interrupted quickly, avoiding her gaze.

“Wait, what if we take the day -”

“I can’t,” he insisted. Work, that was all - he couldn’t process this right now, and he certainly couldn’t talk about it. “I have to go in.”

“I - I see,” she murmured. “We still have date night tonight, right?”

He bit back the refusal he wanted to give, unable to think about going to dinner after this as if nothing had happened.

“It might be good for us,” she added, and he finally glanced down at her. “John, I’m - I’m so -”

“I - can’t, right now, Abby,” he said. The pained look that met his words tore through him, and he sighed as he reached a hand to cup her cheek. “I need some time.”

“I understand,” she whispered, and she sniffled as she looked down.

“We can still have dinner, I just - I can’t - talk about this. Not yet,” he told her.

She nodded, still looking down, and he realized she was likely trying to hide tears from him.

“I can drop you off at work,” he offered, but she shook her head.

“I - I think I’m going to call in. Home isn’t that far, I’ll - I’ll walk, I - need to,” she said, and her voice finally cracked. “Ha-have a good day at work, I’ll - I’ll see you this evening.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead, one hand cradling the back of her head before he finally released her. With nothing else he could think to say, he got into his car and turned it on. She held a hand up in farewell and then turned away, folding her arms tight across her chest as she began walking away from the clinic.

Burying the emotions trying to rage through him, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to work.

 

* * *

 

Paperwork had to be the worst part of his job.

And yet today, it was sort of a blessing. Ever since he had woken up, hard and almost coming from a dream of the Fade, he had been slightly out of sorts. For as long as he could remember his dreams had been uninteresting and nondescript, fuzzy and not worth remembering.

Only now he sat at his desk, staring at the paperwork in his hand and rereading the same word again and again without taking it in. It felt unusual for a dream to have him so distracted, but he could still taste, feel, and smell the lass as if she was there beneath him. As if he really had met her in a bar and taken her, as if he’d left her in his bed when he’d left early for work, as if she'd been there.

It had to simply have been a dream. The idea that he had met another dreamer was absurd to him, and he buried the notion. Common sense told him it wasn’t possible - and even if it was, what did it matter? The lass had clearly been from the Imperium, and therefore she was far away from Kirkwall and where he was. Them finding one another had to have been a fluke, some odd quirk of the ever-changing Fade.

After all, it wasn’t as if he had ever met a lass like her before. He felt entirely certain he would have remembered if he had.

A few months had passed since things had ended with Lottie, and he’d been thinking often of trying to get back out there. He’d ended things to try in earnest to find someone he could care for, someone to be passionate about. Those thoughts as he fell asleep had to have just created a realistic dream of the kind of lass he often wished he could meet.

With that rationalization in mind he returned to his paperwork, better able to focus.

When Rutherford set a bag from the burger joint around the corner on his desk he finally looked up.

“Brought you lunch,” Cullen told him, and he sipped from his to-go cup as he took his seat at his desk against the other wall of their shared office.

“Cheers, mate,” Rylen said. He opened the bag and pulled out a paper-wrapped burger and pouch of crisps. “Did you get the last few witness statements we needed?”

Cullen let out a huff as he set his drink down, shaking his head. He spun idly in his office chair, hands folded over his stomach. “Not much more of it was useful,” he grumbled. “Some was contradictory - a few are now saying the victim shielded themself before the first blow, some are saying they struck first.”

Rylen shook his head as he chewed the large bite of burger he’d taken, then wiped his mouth with a napkin once he'd swallowed. “Aye, of course,” he muttered. “I wish we’d had more time that night to ask them for more details. But now they’ve had a few days and everything’s muddled, so why not blame the mage for their own hate crime -”

“Did the Captain approve those charges?” Cullen asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

Rylen rolled his eyes. “Not yet, said she’s trying to cut through some of the red tape. Higher up doesn’t seem to think it constitutes as one.”

Cullen scoffed and continued rocking his chair side to side as he contemplated the ceiling. “Most of the witnesses agree on what the attacker yelled before he made his move, whatever they’re now saying the victim did,” he mused. “I’m not certain how it isn’t clearly a hate crime.”

“You know how rarely they actually pursue those charges,” Rylen pointed out. “This case only got a wee bit of media coverage, they only really do that for high profile cases. What’s another mage beaten bloody outside a bar? They survived, just slap on some assault and battery charges and call it a day. Blasted cowards.”

Cullen snorted and turned back to his desk to pick up his drink, considering it for a moment before he turned back to Rylen. “I’m surprised there hasn’t been more coverage,” he said. “Did you see the article this morning in The Herald? About housing discrimination against mages and how many are being evicted? You’d think they’d have picked up on this case and run with it too.”

“Aye, The Herald has been a bit more vocal lately,” Rylen agreed, and he frowned as he shuffled some papers to find that morning’s copy. “I feel fairly certain they printed something about this, but maybe they’re waiting to report more once we actually do something.”

“Or do nothing so they can hang us out to dry,” Cullen muttered. “They’d probably like that more. ‘Kirkwall PD Does Nothing, Lets Mages Be Beaten Near Death Without Consequences’ by - what was the name of the reporter who wrote that article this morning?”

Rylen glanced down at the front page, under the headline, ‘Fine Print on City Code Allows Mages to be Evicted - Without Any Warning.’ “Abigail Henderson,” he answered with a frown. He wasn’t certain he recognized the name. He heaved a sigh and set the paper down, taking another bite of burger before he wiped his hands and turned to his computer. “Well, media coverage or not let’s get the paperwork done so we can see which it will be, hm?”

Cullen chuckled and turned to his computer as well. “True. Let the Captain handle the fall out and the higher-ups’ decision on the charges. Above my pay grade.”

“Aye, our pay grade means just enough paperwork to make us feel batty,” Rylen grumbled.

Both men laughed for a moment and then fell into comfortable silence as they went back to work. The silence besides typing and shuffling of papers let Rylen’s mind wander once more, and curiosity overtook him. He opened the browser on his desktop and glanced Cullen’s way before he typed in his query.

For a moment he considered asking Cullen, since they had both been Templars and knew more about the Fade than most. But he remembered what he had heard about the Calenhad Uprising and decided not to broach the subject of Fade dreams with the other man. Instead he sat reading through articles about the Fade, trying to see what he could find. After several minutes spent researching he sighed and closed the tabs, not having learned more than he already knew. Unfortunately without delving into the topic in depth, he was unlikely to find answers.

Accepting that it was just something that had happened without explanation, he refocused on the task at hand - boring paperwork.

 

* * *

 

Abby hadn’t known what to expect in the Fade when she fell asleep that night. Would Despair make an appearance? Or Desire? Rage? She had expected nightmares, struggles. Not lying curled up in a plush replica of her bed, able to cuddle under blankets and try to cope with everything that had happened that day.

She felt all over the place. Waking up climaxing from a stranger in the Fade felt like it had happened so long ago, not simply half a day ago. The strange guilt she had felt then was nothing compared to the guilt she felt now, the way she was struggling to accept the news they had received after that.

She had been certain it was her, had been expecting the news that she couldn’t be a mother, couldn’t have a child. It had never occurred to her that John could be sterile. The day she had spent alone, curled up on the sofa with a blanket crying her eyes out, determined not to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already was, even though he still had yet to tell her.

Dinner had been an awkward endeavor, both trying to act as if everything was all right, speaking about work, about her article that had been on the front page that morning. She even felt guilty being upset that she wanted to be happy about that, her first front page story. But every time she smiled, she had felt like she was betraying him, being insensitive to how he must be struggling.

Once home he had poured himself a glass of scotch and sat down to watch the news, and though she tried to sit with him for a time she’d finally suggested that they go to bed. Only he’d refused, and she’d come up to retire on her own, again burying the multitudes of emotions she was feeling. She wanted to talk with him, but she also needed to respect his request for time.

In the meantime, she could sleep - and again the Fade was actually being kind, letting her merely rest.

She tried not to focus too much on the dream she had had the night before, deciding to accept it for what it was. Either a creation of the Fade, or another dreamer she had somehow crossed paths with. In the midst of everything she didn’t want to think too hard about how easily she had accepted his offer, since she’d been able to tell he wasn’t a demon. Just a tall, attractive stranger with tattoos on his face and an accent that had sent shivers down her spine.

The accent had been part of why she accepted so easily - if he was another dreamer, he had to be in Starkhaven, and the chances of her ever meeting him were slim to none. So she’d embraced the saying they’d all laughed about and used to justify their shenanigans at uni - “What happens in the Fade stays in the Fade.”

After all, it wasn’t cheating since it didn’t really happen, especially if he had just been some conjuring of her imagination projected onto the Fade. Sex dreams were normal, and so she tried to shrug off any lingering guilt she had about coming so easily for a stranger.

She snuggled further into the blankets, letting herself feel grateful for her little slice of the Fade to comfort her for the night. Wondering a little if she could sleep within sleep, she closed her eyes.

And then opened them immediately when she heard a door open and close, and then halting footsteps. She bolted upright, looking toward the door of her bedroom, staring wide-eyed at the tall figure standing just inside the room.

“Oh,” he said, raising his eyebrows when he saw her. “I was - hm. I wasn’t expecting to see you again, lass.”

The stranger from the previous night’s dream was standing looking just as surprised as she felt, and then he smiled. Running a hand through chestnut waves he took a few steps toward the bed, smirking as his eyes wandered over her. He was only wearing a pair of jeans, and she looked over his muscular torso, noticing the few tattoos he had on his arms and in the middle of his chest.

“You’re - you’re back,” she finally said. “I didn’t - I didn’t think…”

He hesitated beside the bed for a moment before he sat on the edge, and even more hesitantly he reached a hand out to her cheek. When he touched her she marveled at how real he still felt, and she found herself beginning to doubt that he had been a projection of her imagination.

“Looks like I am,” he agreed. “Any idea how - I mean - are you a - mage?”

“I am,” she confessed, frowning as she let her eyes wander over him. “But the way you keep acting - you aren’t, are you?”

“No, I used to be a Templar, but - I haven’t even taken lyrium in a few years,” he told her, and then shrugged. “Any clue how I keep ending up here?”

“None at all,” she answered.

“I’m not complaining,” he said, and he winked at her. He leaned slightly closer. “Any chance you had another long day?”

She held back the honest answer, unwilling to tell her burdens to a stranger. But he was here, still looking at her with a suggestive, tender gleam in eyes that shined bright aqua.

Maybe the Fade was giving her what she needed, after the day she’d had. She quirked a brow and looked him over, burying the turmoil inside her and deciding this was better than wallowing miserably in the replica of her bed. Instead she focused on how he was looking at her, the confident way he was obviously admiring her as he stroked her cheek with a thumb.

“Is that your best line?” she teased, unable to resist a bit of snark. “‘Use me for stress relief? I'll sacrifice myself, oh damn what a shame.’ Does that work?”

“It worked last night,” he pointed out. Then he chuckled; a deep, rich sound and she bit her lip in response to the way it almost reverberated through her. “Although that was more than a little embarrassing, I'm normally much subtler and smoother than that. I just - wasn’t quite certain what was going on. Now that I’ve got my wits about me more, I could - take more time. Woo you properly.”

She giggled and leaned closer, trailing one finger over the tattoo on his chest. “That sounds much, much better.”

“What’s your name?” he murmured, tenderly brushing her hair off her face as he continued closing the distance between them.

“I - um,” she hummed, thinking it over. Names would make this feel real, could lead places it shouldn’t outside of the Fade because of the curiosity she knew it would inspire.

“I can go first if you like,” he suggested. “I’m -”

“No, wait,” she interrupted, placing her fingers over his lips. “No names. Let’s just - accept this for what it is.”

“So I just call you - lass?” he asked when she lowered her fingers.

“Whatever works for you, just - no names,” she insisted.

He considered for a moment and then smirked. “All right, then, lass.”

The way he purred it made her let out a soft moan, and he tightened his hand in her hair as he pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was slow but hungry, as if he was intent on spending more time on everything this time. He pulled away after several long moments and nuzzled his tattooed nose against hers. “Don’t disappear this time, lass.”

“I’ll - I’ll do my best,” she assured him breathlessly, feeling as if her heart was racing as she thought about the moment she had woken up that morning. She hadn’t considered that it must have pulled her away from him in the Fade when she did.

“Did I - did I make you…” he asked slowly, and she held his gaze for a moment before she nodded. He smiled and pulled her to him for another deep kiss.

Gently laying her back on the bed he took his place over her, and she suddenly realized the Fade had accommodated them and they were both naked. He trailed his lips over her skin, lower and lower as he nipped at the watercolor Crystal Grace tattooed on her shoulder before he tugged her nipple lightly between his teeth. At her soft cry he grasped her breast in one hand, focusing his attention on swirling his tongue around its rosy peak.

When he began to shift lower and kissed his way down her stomach her legs trembled, excitement coursing through her as he planted kisses along the inside of her thighs. His breath was hot against her sex, and he slowly slid his tongue along the full length of her before he drew away, waiting a moment to repeat the action. Each long stroke of his tongue made her moan, legs shaking on either side of his head. He still took his time, licking carefully at her until she was crying out desperately.

His hands tightened on her thighs where he held her, as if in an attempt to hold her there in the Fade as he carried her through her release. But she didn’t feel herself pulling out of slumber; instead she rocked her hips against his mouth, peering down to see the eager way he was watching her come from between her legs.

She finally stilled, trying to regain what little of her senses she could as he stretched himself above her once more. He sucked and gently bit her neck, finding the spot beneath her ear to press kisses to before he finally slid his mouth along her jaw. His kiss when he found her lips was more impatient than before, but still held such a tender quality to it that she felt breathless under his attentions.

It all felt so real, so that even when he spread her legs and slowly thrust into her she almost thought he actually was. His pace was steady as he rolled his hips into hers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her to him. She clung tightly to his back, digging her nails into his skin as she tried to match his eager passion with her own. The dream before had been fucking, like a quickie, but this - something felt different, like something _more_.

Abby couldn’t fathom how she could feel this connected to a stranger, noticing the way they both gripped one another and tried to hold tight as if they didn’t want to be separated. All she could think was that the Fade was messing with her, projecting the feelings of intense need and desire that she had been experiencing. Her struggles were tangling up in this until she couldn’t quite make sense of what was real.

And trying to reassure herself that it wasn’t real at all didn’t help, because she couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, it almost was.

He nearly suffocated her with a kiss, still thrusting into her as he rubbed at her clit with a thumb. As she approached the edge once more he pulled away from kissing her, tightening how he was holding her against him. “Don’t disappear yet, lass,” he requested again, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl, accented until she could hardly tell what he was saying. “Stay with me, lass, stay -”

She began to fall apart, clinging tightly to him as she shuddered beneath him, and she tried her best to fight the way she could feel herself starting to pull out of the Fade.

_Just a moment longer - not yet, not yet -_

“Lass,” he moaned loudly, and his rhythm turned jerky as he came with her, crushing her to him as they writhed together -

Abby’s eyes opened and she rubbed her thighs together, trying to intensify the way she was still throbbing from the orgasm that was slowly starting to fade. With a groan she looked around the dark bedroom, trying to let her eyes adjust.

After several long moments she glanced to the other side of the bed and realized she was alone. The clock on her nightstand told her that it was after three in the morning, and she frowned when she realized John still hadn’t come to bed. Heaving a deep sigh, she pushed herself to a sitting position, feeling slightly shaky from the way she had just fallen apart. Twice.

A deep pang of guilt tore through her as she realized for the second night in a row she had woken up wet and throbbing from letting a stranger take her in her dreams - and yet in the moment it had felt right. That did little to make the guilt go away, and her reassurances to herself that he was far away in Starkhaven didn’t help as much as she would have liked.

When she felt a bit steadier she climbed out of bed, grabbing the long silk robe from the chair it was thrown over to shrug it on. Walking on still slightly trembling legs she made her way down the hallway, the eerily quiet penthouse sending her heart racing with worry. The silk of her robe flowed around her as she tiptoed on the stairs, the whisper of how it billowed the only sound she could hear.

John was sitting in the living room, but the television was turned off and the glass fireplace was still lit with her magefire from when they'd come home. As she circled around the overstuffed sofa she saw an almost empty decanter of his favorite scotch on the table beside him. A glint in his hand caught her eye, the magic flames that were the only source of light in the room illuminating the amber of his scotch and crystal of the glass he held.

“John?” she asked tentatively, folding her arms tight across her chest.

He glanced up at her, his head moving slowly as if it was taking him a moment to realize she was standing there. “Abby,” he murmured, and he frowned and looked back down at his glass. “Sorry, did I - I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, I thought - I thought you’d come to bed by now,” she told him, and she slowly walked forward so she could perch on the edge of the seat beside him.

“No, I can’t - can’t sleep,” he admitted.

When he fell silent for several long moments she pressed her lips together, debating how to respond. Before she could ask anything, though, he shook his head and took another sip of scotch.

“I’m so sorry, Abby,” he said.

“Sorry? For - for what?” she asked, frowning.

“I let you down. I try so hard to give you everything, but I - I can’t,” he murmured, and his brows furrowed into a deep scowl. He still wouldn’t really look at her, simply staring down into the glass he held as he contemplated the amber liquid swirling inside it.

“John,” she sighed, and she scooted closer to him, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “Handsome, that’s not - please, this isn’t your fault, you don’t need to apologize -”

“I failed you,” he interrupted. “We always talked about the family we’d have, how proud we would be to have them. But I’m incomplete, not whole -”

“John, stop that -”

“I can give you everything but what you want the most, what you deserve -”

“Please, don’t -”

“You deserve better,” he told her, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “I’m - I’m so sorry -”

“John, please - fasta vass, would you cut this kaffas out?” she snapped finally, and she scooted closer until she could wrap her arm around his shoulder. Her other hand she used to turn his face until he was looking at her. “This isn’t your fault. I know it isn’t -”

“I waited too long, I’m too old -”

“Stop it,” she insisted. “Even the doctor didn’t know if that was the case. This - this is a setback, a complication, and we need to figure it out. But we’ll do that - together. Remember? We said - no matter the challenges, we’d face them together.”

“I didn’t think - I can’t hold you back,” he said, and his voice cracked slightly as he did. He cleared his throat and dragged a shaky hand over his eyes. “Vishante kaffas, Abby, I - I want you to have everything you want, everything you deserve, and I can’t even give you this. It’s the easiest thing, it happens every day for millions of people. But I - I’m broken -”

“Handsome, you’re not,” Abby insisted again. “Please, I - I know this is a blow. I know. But let’s - just come to bed, we’ll - we’ll get some sleep. Tomorrow’s Friday and then we have the weekend together. Just - let’s schedule an appointment for next week. Let’s talk to someone. I think it would help -”

“It won’t help fix me, it won’t change things,” John muttered, shaking his head before he took another sip of scotch.

“It might help,” she suggested tentatively. “Please, at least do that for me. I want to talk to someone, I want us to figure this out - together. I’m not going anywhere, Handsome. I love you. I do, I love you - so much. We can handle this, okay?”

He finally raised his bleary gaze to hers, holding it as he contemplated her words, as if trying to determine the truth of them. Finally he nodded, a little jerkily before he reached his free hand to her knee and squeezed gently. “All right, Kitten. I - I love you too. We’ll - we’ll try talking to someone. You’re right.”

“Thank you,” she told him, and she leaned forward to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Come to bed, we’ll get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll call and make us an appointment with a counselor.”

John nodded once more and drained his glass before he set it aside. Abby pushed herself to her feet and held out a hand to him, which he accepted so that she could help him to his feet as well. She stepped to his side and tucked herself to him, wrapping an arm around his waist as she guided him to the stairs.

Once he had stripped and they settled into bed, she curled herself against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you,” she breathed into the darkness, but a soft snore met her words and she smiled.

For a long time she lay thinking over the day, over everything he had said about how he was feeling. It broke her heart, the confirmation that he was struggling so much, and she felt like she couldn’t do anything for him. And she certainly couldn’t speak with him about how it was making her feel, how the news had affected her. Not now, not while he was still coming to terms with it all.

She was still aware of the peaceful contentment she felt throughout her body, the satisfaction from lovemaking with a stranger in the Fade. Her guilt increased slightly, and she wondered a bit if she was trying to hold back from sleep so that she didn’t fall back into dreams of the Starkhavener and how tender he had been with her.

When she did finally pass into the Fade, she found herself alone - and despite herself she lamented that he wasn’t there with her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I forgot to share face claims so just because - here's Abby and John's face claims.
> 
> [Abby Face Claim](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f1/ff/8c/f1ff8c0b0928db50e5bf66b888140185.jpg).  
> [John Face Claim](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ce/43/e7/ce43e7e086491ed2179adc33cf89a494.jpg).


	3. What's Needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Linking to the [magical sex toy one shot I have](https://laraslandlockedblues.tumblr.com/post/172205596288/22-how-do-we-even-use-this-thing-for-rylen-and) in case you're interested where this headcanon for Rivaini Love Crystals came from.

_I’m leaving the office now. Be home soon._

_Kitten (sent 8:04pm): Yes, Handsome._

John locked his phone and made his way down the hall of his offices, trying to fight the way his mind was wandering. This would be good for them, even the therapist they were still seeing had said so. Trying to readjust to sex as their connection, as the glue of their marriage again, not as anything more than that. Returning to a sense of normalcy, for them. When Abby had suggested that they play that morning he had almost refused, but she seemed so eager...

Maybe she was right. For two months now, between their therapy sessions and still trying to come to terms with the feelings of inadequacy he hadn’t been as interested, hadn’t let himself find his pleasure with her as he had before. Yet she kept trying, waking him up occasionally or trying to convince him to retire with her. He could probably count on both hands the number of times he had, though, and that thought pained him.

It had taken her asking him during a therapy session if he still loved her for him to fully grasp that while he was devastated, she likely was too. And so when she had turned eager, wide eyes up to him that morning and asked if he wanted to play when he got home, he had finally accepted. The way she had kissed him after had been nearly desperate, and he realized he had been neglecting her.

Not any longer. It was Friday, they were about to have the whole weekend. He’d told her to buy wine on her way home from work, and they didn’t have any plans. Just the two of them for the whole weekend, following the advice of their therapist and trying to fully reconnect. He did his best not to think of it like that, thinking instead of the things he could do to Abby to show her that he still loved her. That she was still his.

He was leaving work late enough that traffic was lighter than normal, and he made it back to their building quickly. His walk through the lobby and ride on the lift were spent thinking of her, of how much he missed her even though he still felt as if he had failed and hurt her.

Taking a deep breath before their front door, he steadied himself before he put his key in the lock. He needed to be that man, the one she turned an expectant gaze up to as she waited for his commands. She was so giving, always - and he realized that she was offering to spend the night giving, as if she knew it was what he needed.

Maybe it was what she needed, too. He had never thought about it before, that the way she gave to him was just as fulfilling to her as it was to him. That she didn’t just offer to play or follow his orders because he wanted her to or because it was fun, but because it satisfied a need inside of her as well.

Thinking that he could do this, for both of them, he stood straighter and opened the door.

Abby was standing just inside the door, holding a small silverite tray that bore a glass of scotch as well as two gleaming, smooth, black eggs. He made certain the door swung shut behind him, and simply took in the sight of her for a moment.

The chain choker of Paragon’s Luster he had given her rested on her throat, the heart-shaped locket in the middle with a diamond glittering in the soft light. She was bare except for sheer thigh-high stockings with a wide band of lace at the top, and a pair of tall black stilettos. She was watching him expectantly, the corners of her mouth twitching as if they wanted to tug up into a wide smile.

Slowly he sauntered forward, letting his gaze roam over every inch of her as he stopped and took the glass of scotch off the tray. “Good evening, Kitten.”

“Welcome home, Handsome,” she murmured, and her voice almost seemed to shake a little on the words. As if she was already trembling with anticipation.

Which meant taking his time with her would be even sweeter than normal.

He took a sip of his drink as he looked down at the black egg-shaped crystals on the tray, smirking as he picked one up. “Take the other,” he instructed her, and she lifted the second black crystal and held it in her hand, waiting patiently. “Do you still want to play tonight, Kitten? I had a long day and I’m about to have you for the whole weekend. I don’t think you’ll be getting much sleep, with all the stress I need to work off.”

She tugged her lip between her teeth briefly, and something almost changed in her expression before she smiled and nodded. It passed so quickly he wondered if he had imagined it. “Yes, Handsome, I want - I want to play. Please.”

Taking another sip of his drink he considered her for a moment before he spoke again. “Put down the tray and then help me get more comfortable.”

She smiled and turned to the kitchen, setting down the tray before she returned to her place in front of him. Kneeling before him she set the black crystal on the floor but he softly clucked his tongue. “Pick it back up, Kitten - and focus on it while you work, please.”

When she picked up the crystal again she murmured, “Yes, Handsome,” and he watched as both crystals glowed bright blue.

He sipped his scotch as he watched her undo the laces of his shoes, and he let his gaze wander over her once more before he settled on what he wanted to begin with.

_Those pert breasts in my hands, rosy nipples between my lips so I can run my tongue over them until she’s gasping._

A sharp inhalation of breath from her met his thoughts, and he watched as she tugged her lip between her teeth once more. But she continued to help him out of his shoes, setting them carefully aside when he had slipped out of them.

He focused harder on what attentions he would lavish on her breasts when she glanced up at him, and he gently cupped her chin with the hand that held the black egg. “You look so good on your knees, Kitten. But you also look good enough to eat,” he mused. “Get on the counter.”

A soft frown crossed her face but she pushed herself to her feet and walked to the large marble island in the kitchen and lifted herself onto it. He walked forward and smiled at her, then gestured to the counter. “Lay back, Kitten, and spread your legs like a good girl.”

Abby leaned back almost immediately, spreading her legs to expose herself to him. He stepped forward and lightly teased a finger over her clit, smiling at the way she shuddered and lifting his finger when she moaned. The light on the crystals flickered and he tapped her folds lightly with his fingers until she gasped.

“Focus, Kitten,” he chided. “You remember the rules.”

“Y-yes, sorry, Handsome,” she rushed to assure him, and the crystals glowed blue once more.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He took another sip of his drink and let his fingers wander over her, focusing his thoughts on how he wanted to slide his fingers into her, curling them and thrusting them into her again and again. At the cries these thoughts brought he smirked and drained the rest of his drink. Once he’d set the glass aside he shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it over a stool, then leaned over the glistening space between her legs.

Flicking his tongue out he slid it along her clit, focusing at the same time about the other parts of her he wanted to lick and caress. She moaned deeply and her legs trembled on either side of his head, and he repeated the action. For several minutes he licked at her, thinking of how he would move his fingers within her, how much attention he would give every inch of her until she was panting desperately.

And then he pulled away, relishing the way she groaned and mewled at having his attention removed right as she reached the edge. He ran his fingers along her wet entrance, barely pushing a fingertip within her before he removed it, again and again until she whimpered.

The feeling of a hot, wet tongue running along his cock made him moan, and he gripped her thigh with a hand as he tried to maintain control. “Kitten,” he began firmly, “did I say you could?”

“N-no,” she gasped, and the crystals both flickered uncertainly for a moment.

He returned his tongue to her, slowly teasing her with it until he noticed her shuddering and getting closer to the edge again. When the crystals glowed brighter blue once more he again felt as if a mouth was eagerly sucking at the tip of him, and he shook his head.

He straightened and again lightly slapped her folds a few times, causing her to buck and roll her hips as she cried out at the contact. “That’s twice, Kitten,” he scolded. “Come here.”

At his command she sat up, pouting up at him slightly, and he pulled his tie off and gestured for her wrists. Once she’d held them out he bound them together, and then he helped her to spin on the counter. Encouraging her onto her back once more, her head hanging over the edge of the counter, he unzipped his pants and freed his hard cock.

“Was this what you wanted?” he asked, and he noticed the eager way she stared up at him as she nodded. “If you come before I tell you you can, you remember what happens?”

She continued to nod, and then parted her glistening lips, opening her mouth expectantly. He braced one hand on the counter and slowly guided his length between her lips, thrusting in slowly and watching the sight of her taking his shaft down her throat. He began to thrust more quickly, and focused intently on the idea of running his tongue along her clit.

The reaction was immediate, the way she sucked harder at his cock moving between her lips as he tried again to push her to the edge. Tightening his hold on the crystal he did his best to keep up a measured pace as he slid himself down her throat, and he pulled back on thoughts of licking her when he noticed her getting closer. Again and again he pushed her to the edge through the crystal, groaning when he felt her increase her attentions on his cock in response with soft, muffled whimpers.

“Do you want to come, Kitten?” he asked, moaning when she nodded her head eagerly. He found himself almost wishing he could multitask more easily, to have more hands and mouths to actually do all of the things the Love Crystals enabled him to let her know he wanted to do to her. There were too many ways he wanted to shower her with his affections and make certain she knew he cared.

The frequency of her moans around his shaft made him work to refocus, not allowing himself to give into the urge to spill his spend down her throat. He focused instead on pushing her right to the edge, imagining laving every inch of her sex with his tongue. The muffled whimpers that greeted his renewed focus made him smile, and he slowed his thrusting.

“Should I let you come, Kitten?” he asked, and she nodded eagerly once more. “I’m not sure you’ve been good enough.”

A soft mewl of protest vibrated around his cock, and he clenched his eyes shut for a moment. He couldn’t finish like this, she needed more from him. The point was to reconnect, to try to bridge the gap that had been between them for two months now.

And so he pulled himself from her despite the way she was sucking at him as if she had no other desire in life. His lovely Abby, with her degrees, her thought-provoking job, and her correspondence with some of the best minds and intellectuals of the Imperium - yet right now she was acting as if sucking his dick was the greatest aspiration she had.

Again he mused over how giving she was, realizing that they had, in fact, both needed this. He leaned over her, pinching her nipples between his fingers as he nibbled her earlobe. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes - yes, Handsome,” she whimpered.

“What do you do?” he whispered in her ear, and he thought again about running his tongue over her, watching as both crystals glowed brighter blue. He straightened and moved slowly around the island so that he stood beside her, able to slowly slide a finger into her, marveling at how wet she was and how much she was throbbing.

She shuddered and gasped, the muscles of her stomach flinching. “P-please, Handsome - can I come? I want to - I’m so close, please. Please may I come?” she panted.

He let her struggle for a moment more, thinking about how slowly he could tease her with his tongue, the crystals still glowing and almost thrumming with the intensity of her magic. But he stopped focusing on the crystal, setting it down on the counter so that the connection broke and they both went black once more. She sobbed almost desperately, squirming on the marble countertop as he leaned over her.

He teased her with his closeness for a moment, his lips just barely brushing against her. After several moments he finally flicked his tongue out, running it over her clit again and again while he listened to her moaning.

LIfting his mouth for a moment he smirked up at her. “Yes, Kitten - you can come,” he finally told her, and then resumed his attention on her clit.

Her back arched and her hips bucked, and her mewling, whimpering sobs echoed through the otherwise silent penthouse. He didn’t realize how much he had missed the sound until he listened to the desperation with which she cried out to him, and he raised his head so that he could watch her writhing.

When she finally calmed, her eyes fluttered open and she sought out his gaze, a soft, grateful look sparkling in her brown eyes. He helped her sit up with his hands beneath her elbows, and then lifted her off the counter to her feet. She stared up at him expectantly, trying to stay steady on obviously shaking legs, and he smiled as he took hold of the loose end of the tie that bound her wrists.

“This way, Kitten,” he told her as he began to lead her to the stairs. “I said we had a long night ahead of us.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a long day.

And even though the Fade had become her refuge the last two months, she found herself curled up in the dream of her bed uncertain how to feel. Did she want to be alone? Or did she want the distraction, the comforting presence of the stranger she still saw every night?

The weekend had been glorious, spent in her husband’s arms once more - she tried not to think about how the nights had also been spent in the arms of the Starkhavener - but they still hadn’t talked. They hadn’t been able to discuss what they were still struggling to even discuss with a professional therapist. The way John shut down was tearing her apart, to the point that a few times that weekend one or both of them had had issues, unable to enjoy themselves, carefree.

Although she realized that was because they were not, in fact, carefree.

All of it had been a step in the right direction, but she still somehow felt lonely. She understood how he was feeling, but the way she felt as if she couldn’t discuss how _she_ was feeling was beginning to wear her out. Staying strong, trying to support him as he came to terms - what about her? The news had affected her life as well, her dreams and hopes for their future.

A long individual session with the therapist had finally brought that all to the forefront, and she was mentally exhausted from how long she had spent sobbing that day. That thought, even here in the Fade, brought tears to her eyes.

She brushed at her cheeks, trying to shake the feelings - she was sick of feeling alone in this, sick of trying to stay strong, sick of somehow feeling as if she was embodying two different selves. When the door opened and she heard familiar echoes of footsteps she buried her face in her hands.

“Lass? What’s wrong?”

Abby glanced up from how she had snuggled into the blankets, taking in the now welcome sight of the Starkhavener’s face as he knelt on the bed beside her. There was such a look of tender concern in his eyes that she caved, stretching arms up to implore him to her.

Without a second thought he shifted and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She adjusted and clung to him, as if she could sink into him if she only tried hard enough. Instantly a sense of peace came upon her, and she nestled into his comforting embrace.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“I - I’ve been having a rough time,” she confessed in a whisper.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, arms tightening around her as he began to stroke her hair with the hand that was holding the back of her head. “I’m here, and you’re distraught - you can tell me, if you like.”

She considered for a moment, trying to think how to break the mostly unspoken agreement between them to let these dreams simply be what they were. Yet somehow, the fact that he was holding her, consoling her even though he had no reason to -

He could have walked out as soon as he saw she wasn’t ready and waiting for him to make love to her. Instead he was holding her this tightly, caressing her hair and occasionally pressing soft kisses to the top of her head.

As if he cared.

“It’s complicated,” she murmured.

“We have all night,” he pointed out.

“You don’t - you don’t want to leave? You could, I mean - I’m not really up for what we usually get up to.”

“Well, even though I spent all day thinking about what I wanted to do to you after how you teased me last night,” he began, but he trailed off in mirth. His deep chuckles reverberated against her ear and throughout her body, and she almost smiled at the feeling. “I’m more than fine just holding you, whether you want to talk or not.”

“You’d do that for me?” she asked quietly, tilting her face up to glance at him.

He smiled, reaching a hand up to wipe at the tears that still clung to her eyelashes. “Aye, lass - I would,” he assured her. “At this point - being here every night feels like a choice. I think I fall asleep and - want to be here, with you. Not even so that I can take you, I - I look forward to seeing your face. Hearing your voice. Even just holding you like this, and I’m - happy.”

Even here in the Fade her heart raced at the words, the tender tone of his voice as he purred such sweetness to her. The realization that she felt the same, though, made guilt tear through her until she found herself dissolving into sobs again.

“I’m sorry, lass, I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s not your fault,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath between sobs. “I - I haven’t been able to talk about - really talk about what’s going on. Not with the person I need to, and I - I’m so tired. I want to be able to let my pain be visible, to not have to hold it in.”

“You can release it now, lass,” he told her. “I won’t even ask what it’s about if you don’t want to tell me. You can cry, and rage, and let yourself feel it all. I’ve got you, and I won’t go anywhere.”

The assurances were unexpected, considering the way they normally just pinned one another to the bed as soon as they found themselves in the Fade together. They had spoken some, but Abby had worked to keep it vague, to maintain anonymity and a disconnect from it all. Yet even with that wall she tried to keep erected between them, she had found that she liked his easy humor, the way he could be so demanding and yet so tender and giving with her. The way he took her, a strange lass in the Fade he could treat however he wanted, said a great deal about what kind of a man he was.

And she often found herself thinking about him far more than she likely should when she was awake. It was odd, though, since it wasn’t in place of John. She thought of them both, each holding a special place in her heart, and she honestly didn’t know where that left her.

The confusion this added to the conflict and sadness she was already struggling with did little to quiet her tears. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, one hand clinging to his nape, fingers trailing softly in his hair. Even here it felt soft; chestnut waves she could easily tangle in her grasp, and she clung more tightly to him as she did.

True to his word he simply held her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back, brushing her hair with his fingers as he made certain he was cradling her intimately enough. He was a giant compared to her, and she was almost completely engulfed by his embrace. The feeling was incredibly soothing, as if she was being shielded from her problems by him, as if he stood between her and pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, but knowing the nature of the Fade was maybe only a few minutes, she finally quieted her tears. She kept her face pressed to his neck, still clinging desperately to him, simply enjoying the intense and wonderful sense of safety she felt in his arms.

“Better now, lass?” he asked after she had been quiet for a few moments.

“A - a bit,” she told him. “Thank you. You don’t have to - you didn’t need to -”

“I wanted to,” he assured her. “I - I care about you, lass.”

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from him, staring at him with wide eyes. It felt as if a line had been crossed, something forbidden spoken, some secret truth finally revealed. He was staring at her so sweetly, but he frowned as he took in the way she disentangled herself from him and pushed away, scooting back on the mattress.

“Don’t - don’t say -”

“Lass, this is - this isn’t just some random fun in the Fade, anymore,” he insisted. He shook his head and gestured between them. “This is more, this could _be_ more.”

“No - it can’t,” she cried, and she pulled her knees into her chest.

_Wake up - wake up, Abby. This was a mistake -_

_Fuck._

“Tell me where you are, tell me who you are - we could see if -” he began to plead.

But she shook her head and clapped her hands to her head. “No - no, this was - this is a mistake, I shouldn’t have - we shouldn’t have -”

“Don’t say that, it wasn’t a mistake,” he insisted. “Please, lass - all day, every day, I can’t - I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re another dreamer, and somehow we found one another. I’ve never - I’ve never felt this. You’re real, you’re out in the world, and I could - I could -”

“No!” she cried again, and her tears returned, blurring her vision. “Please, don’t ask me to - I begged you not to -”

“Aye, two months ago, when we thought we were just fucking,” he pointed out. “We thought it was only a few times, and now - again and again I’ve found you, again and again I’ve taken you. We’ve held one another after, we’ve talked and teased, and I’ve - I’ve never -”

“Please,” she breathed, clenching her eyes shut.

_Wake up._

He was before her, kneeling and trying to pull her hands away from how they held her forehead so that he could see her face. “Lass, please - what if this was some kind of fate? I’ve never heard of anything like this happening -”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Don’t ask me to - I said no names, no places -”

“Come find me, I’m in -”

_Wake up!_

Her eyes flew open, and with a shuddering breath she realized her cheeks were wet.

 

* * *

 

Two nights, now.

Two nights in a row the door had been locked when he found it, and knocking and calling to her through it had merely been answered by silence.

He had pushed too hard, and now she had locked him out. Likely for good.

Turning off his car Rylen sat staring at nothing for a moment before he leaned his head back against the seat with a groan. Two months, and he hadn’t realized how deeply he had begun to care until she had held her arms up to him, silently pleading with him for his simple _presence_ to soothe her. The feeling that had bloomed within him as he held and comforted her had made him realize - it had long since moved past casual fun. He couldn’t have pinpointed the exact moment if he tried, but he had known then just how desperately he wished to keep her in his life.

Although he longed to have her in his life in a real sense, instead of just dreams. He’d had the desire before that night, that dream, but suddenly holding her as she released whatever sorrows were plaguing her had made him accept just how much he longed for the reality of her. If she were merely an imagining of the Fade, the dreams wouldn’t have deviated from the nights of sensuous pleasure. The fact that he had spent the night comforting her had finally cemented the truth of their situation, and he hadn’t been able to resist.

Now he was wishing he had kept his mouth shut. She had already been vulnerable, upset, she didn’t need for him to press her for more. Yet the thing about the Fade, the thing about the entire situation was that there was too much honesty in it, too little inhibition. He hadn’t been able to resist, even if he had wanted to.

He hit his head back against the seat a few times, lightly chiding himself for his stupidity. The last two days had passed as if in a fog. He found himself dreading yet another day making his way through the monotony of work, knowing that at the end of it he would find himself standing outside a locked door.

Never before had he wished so desperately to see someone again.

It wasn’t even just the lovemaking, although he had never been quite so enamored and perfectly satisfied by a lass before. The Fade couldn’t hide the way she smirked, the way she teased, the way she almost begged for his tender attentions. Behind her dark eyes was such a liveliness to her, such an appeal for acceptance, and he thought about how dearly he wished to help carry her burdens as he made his way into the precinct.

He stopped in the break room and grabbed the swill that passed for coffee, feeling more tired than normal after a sleepless night. Over two months of sleeping so soundly, and the last two nights had been so restless he felt like death warmed over.

“Maker’s breath, look at what the cat dragged in.”

Rylen glanced over his shoulder to see Cullen raising his eyebrows at him as he wandered into the break room. He gave his partner a noncommittal grunt, raising his styrofoam cup to blow on the steaming black sludge within.

“Late night?” Cullen prompted with a smirk as he opened the fridge to search its contents.

“Just not sleeping well,” Rylen answered. He stared down into his cup, contemplating it absently as his mind continued to churn over the lass from the Fade.

“Is it - the usual?” Cullen questioned, his tone coming out haltingly.

Rylen shot Cullen a glance, noticing the hesitant way he was hovering by the counter as he waited for an answer. It was as if he wanted to make certain Rylen knew he was available to speak with, even if the very idea of doing so bothered him. But Rylen shook his head and forced a few chuckles. “No, mate - not the lyrium, for once,” he answered with a rueful smile. “Just - I’m not certain. Stress, maybe.”

“Plenty of that going around,” Cullen grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stuff outside of work? How are things with that one - Dotty?”

Rylen chuckled in earnest and shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee before he answered. “Lottie,” he corrected. “I thought I told you, that was over a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Cullen said, furrowing his brows and looking away awkwardly. “Sorry, I hadn’t realized - my condolences.”

“No worries, mate, really,” Rylen assured him. “I was the one who ended things. Figured it was about time I got serious, and she - wasn’t the lass for that.”

Cullen nodded absently, opening the foil lid on his yogurt before he stirred it with a spoon. Rylen didn’t blame him for not remembering, even though they had talked about it over drinks before he ended things. The man had more than his fair share of problems, and so Rylen didn’t tease him about not remembering his trivial love life.

But his partner’s questions got him thinking about why he had left Lottie, and he thought about how he had meant to be looking for someone when he ended things with her. Dating, trying to find someone he could be more serious about - that had been his goal. With a feeling like a punch to his gut, he realized that he had found someone even better than he had ever dreamed.

 _Dreamed_.

At that thought he scowled down into his cup full of a drink the color of tar and swirled it slightly. Fucking Voids, two months of fucking a lass in the Fade and he was a goner - and feeling positively batty over her to boot.

“Captain wanted to see you, by the way,” Cullen muttered as he swallowed a mouthful of yogurt. “Ran into her on the way in here, asked me to tell you to stop by her office.”

“Aye,” Rylen grumbled, and he pushed away from the counter he was leaning on and strode across the break room.

Burying thoughts of the Fade, of the lass he hadn’t expected to fall so hard for, he made his way across the cubicles on the floor toward the Captain’s office. He stopped just within the doorframe and rapped his knuckles on the wooden door.

Captain Vallen glanced up from her desk, and upon seeing him she gestured for him to take a seat. He sauntered into the office, sinking into the chair as he took another sip of his coffee. “Rutherford said you needed me?” he said after he had swallowed.

“Yes,” she answered, and she folded her hands on top of the papers resting before her on her desk. “Seems you’ve caught the attention of Kirkwall.”

“I - I don’t know about that,” Rylen groused, shifting in the chair as he looked away from her. He had hoped this wasn’t why she had called him in here, and he stifled the sigh that wanted to escape his lips.

“The last day I’ve been getting requests for interviews, special interest pieces -”

“Blasted - that’s not - why,” he protested, and he dragged his hand down his chin.

_Maker’s balls, could this week get any worse?_

“You captured an attacker who was targeting mages. And _then_ you went on record espousing the need for more serious treatment and stronger charges for hate crimes when asked your thoughts,” Aveline pointed out. “Whatever your reason at first, you have the city buzzing now.”

“Rutherford was there too, he thought the same,” Rylen grumbled.

“He didn’t tell a reporter the system was broken and perpetrators didn’t have enough to fear if they weren’t being deterred with strong enough charges,” Aveline told him. “You, however, did.”

Rylen shook his head and looked away. It had been a moment of recklessness, and he knew where it had come from. The lass had confessed she was a mage, and he had thought about how he would feel if something happened to her. It had made his blood boil, his insides twist, and he had snapped an overly honest answer at the reporter who stopped him for a comment on what had happened.

“So what, are you - asking me to take a leave of absence?” he gritted out.

Aveline chuckled softly, reaching over to adjust a pen that rested near the papers. “No, not in the slightest,” she told him. “I’d like for you to take one of the interviews. The Herald especially wants to hear from you, and after their response to our handling of the Lowtown case -”

“You mean the way we tried to sweep it under the rug,” he growled, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he glared away from her. Two nights’ lack of sleep seemed to be loosening his tongue. To his surprise, however, the Captain merely continued to chuckle.

“I forwarded you an email from one of the Herald’s reporters,” she continued as if he hadn’t just griped at her so rudely. “Schedule a time to speak with her. Not just to get the record straight, but to try to -”

“Paint the PD in a better light?” he finished for her, quirking an eyebrow as he met her gaze. But he groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll - I’ll meet with the reporter. Are you certain you’re all right letting me speak with them, though? Who knows what I may say.”

“That’s the point,” Aveline told him, her voice even as she held his gaze. “This conversation never happened, MacCallum. Are we clear?”

Rylen stared at her with his eyebrows raised for a moment before he smirked. “Aye, we’re clear,” he agreed, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Anything else, Captain?”

“No. Dismissed,” she told him, and she went back to the papers stacked before her on the desk.

Rylen’s mind almost raced as he made his way back to his office, thinking over the strange way he had just been given free rein. He wasn’t certain if the Captain would back him up if this blew up in his face, but he almost found that he didn’t care. His irritation with everything else seemed to be translating into his frustration with work and the idiotic system he continually found himself to be a part of.

Sitting before his computer he only gave a noncommittal grunt to Cullen’s inquiry about what the Captain had wanted before he opened his email.

_FWD: Interview With Det. M?_

_Captain Vallen,_

_Apologies, I am certain you have more pressing matters to attend to but I couldn’t find the contact information for the detective who gave the brief, blunt interview to The News yesterday at the scene of the Darktown attacks. There was very little information about his identity and I worried I’d get his name wrong._

_If it isn’t too much to request, The Herald is interested in a full interview with him, especially concerning his thoughts on the recent string of attacks that the DA seem to be passing off as just assault, even with clear evidence that they could easily be charged as hate crimes. I understand if your first reaction is to self-protect within your department, but I would argue that all of Kirkwall benefits from a hard, deep introspection about how these crimes are being handled. This detective seems to be a good place to start, especially considering the media attention his few short quotes have gained._

_I would appreciate hearing back from you, or possibly being put in contact with the detective himself. I’ve listed my phone number below although e-mail works just as well to reach me._

_Thank you,_

_Abigail Henderson_

Rylen sighed as he finished the email, dreading having to expound on the ideas that his flare of irritation had made him vocalize. He believed in them, certainly. But going so public with them felt like something else entirely.

He hit reply all the same, and began to compose his response.

_Ms. Henderson,_

_It’s MacCallum. Senior Detective Rylen H. MacCallum, for the record._

_I am available any time tomorrow, if that is amenable to you for an interview regarding my comments made to The News yesterday._

_Coffee? Tell me when and where and I’ll meet you there._

_Senior Det. R.H. MacCallum_

He hit send after reading it through once more, only feeling a small twinge of regret when he thought about how snappish it may come across to her. Yet he hardly had to wait before his inbox showed a new message and his phone vibrated with the same notification.

_Det. MacCallum,_

_Thank you for your prompt reply! I almost wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Tomorrow, 11am, Hightown Bean? I’ll buy._

_Abigail Henderson_

He sighed and shook his head, then quickly typed out a confirmation e-mail before he sent it.

No, he wasn’t quite certain this week could get any worse - and he highly doubted it could get any better.


	4. One. Two. Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some mood music:
> 
> ["Emerald Star" by Lord Huron](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=h70jSN8fG7Q).

Another glance at her watch showed that she was still two minutes early, and she fiddled with the cardboard sleeve around her cappuccino. She tried to keep her mind on the task at hand, on the questions in a journal resting on the table beside her elbow. Work, at least, had been a pleasant distraction the last few days as she tried desperately to sort herself out.

The Fade had allowed her to lock him out, though she hadn’t been able to block out the sound of his gentle pleas that she speak with him. It had done little to relieve her of the guilt and conflict she felt about the last two months. It had all been a mistake, and she wished she could undo it and untangle this mess in her mind.

The large diamond on her engagement ring caught the light and sparkled, catching her attention as she fidgeted with her to-go cup. It weighed heavily on her, and she swallowed and looked out over the café, trying to redirect her thoughts.

10:59.

The bell above the door rang, and she glanced up instinctively just as she had the entire time she’d been waiting.

And then it felt as if time slowed, the sound turned off in the world, her heart slowing almost to a stop. Several moments passed as she felt suffocated by the sight - the sight of _him_ \- the sight of the last person she had hoped or expected would walk through the door. The thought of ducking and hiding crossed her mind, but then his gaze moved over the room before it settled on her.

All at once it was as if the world turned back on. Her heart leapt into her throat, and the buzz of conversation in the café suddenly returned in full force as they made eye contact.

No - how could he be here?

If she bailed - she could call off her interview, make up an excuse - she needed to flee, she couldn’t -

_How?_

Before she could decide on anything to do, though, he was crossing the room, an awestruck look on his face.

“L-lass, I -”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “How - how are you -”

“You’re - you’re really here. I’m not asleep, right?” he asked, frowning as he looked around, though a smile began tugging at his mouth as he did.

“I’m - I need to -” she stuttered out, trying her best to avoid his gaze although her errant eyes were determined to search out his. She grabbed her journal, trying to decide if she could move her meeting somewhere else and run out the door.

“I was here to meet with someone, but - what are the odds. I never thought to see you here,” he continued, still staring at her with such an awed look on his face.

The words made her pause and she turned wide eyes up to him. For a moment she simply stared in return before she began to shake her head faster. “No,” she murmured. “R-Rylen MacCallum?”

A slight frown quirked his brows and he nodded slowly. “Aye, I’m - are you -”

“Abigail Henderson,” she finished for him, holding his gaze and wishing she could bolt out the door.

“You’re - Maker, I - in all my wildest dreams,” he began, and he chuckled as he pulled the chair out from the table so he could take his place across from her.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, leaning back in her chair as if she worried over being too close to him, even with a table between them.

“Lass, this is - this is amazing,” he insisted, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “I just - I never expected that you could be _here_. I was right, this has to be some kind of fate -”

“Please stop,” she interrupted, raising her fingers to rub at her forehead. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing, her head pounding with the start of a headache as her insides twisted. The thought of running still seemed more than a little appealing, except that he was _him_ \- and she still had work to do. Leliana expected her to come back with a full interview but how could she ever hope to explain _this_ to her editor?

“Lass, please, we’re - we’re actually here,” he said, leaning forward further as he tried to peer up into her face. “I can’t - I can’t believe - I’m so sorry, the other night I didn’t mean -”

She cleared her throat and looked around, trying desperately to pull herself together. “Detective MacCallum, your comments the other day to The News -”

“Wait, A-Abigail, let’s talk,” he implored her. When she chanced a glance at him out of the corner of her eye she saw a pained frown on his face, and her insides twisted even further.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I - I have an interview to conduct, I -”

“Lass, to Voids with the interview, it’s not important,” he insisted. “You’re actually -”

He broke off and she finally looked at him, confused by his abrupt silence. She had reached for her cappuccino in her distraction, and she realized she had used her left hand. His gaze was fixed on her fingers, mouth open slightly as he blinked slowly.

“You’re - you’re engaged?” he asked, raising his bright eyes to hers at last.

“I’m married,” she corrected in a hushed whisper. She fidgeted with the rings to separate them, showing him the eternity band covered in small baguette diamonds.

“H-how long?”

“Over six years,” she answered.

For several long moments they simply sat, an oppressive silence overtaking them as he merely stared down at the table. Finally he glanced up at her. “The - the other night, you were crying, said you couldn’t talk to who you needed to…”

“My husband,” she answered again, and then pressed her lips together and looked to the side.

“Are things -”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I - I can’t sit here, with you, and talk about my marriage -”

“Oh, but you could cry in my arms?” he challenged. “Did you - did you think those nights together in the Fade had no effect on me? That I just woke up and didn’t think about you? Are you daft?”

“I thought - hoped - maybe it was just me, that you were an imagining -” she began, but he scoffed and let out a few barks of laughter.

“Please, that’s some shite if I ever heard it,” he told her. “You wouldn’t have insisted on no names if you thought I wasn’t real. You knew full well what you were doing, just didn’t think you’d ever have to face me -”

“Yeah, well, I thought you were in Starkhaven, all right?” she snapped, slapping one hand down on the table as she glared at him. “I never should have - I just took refuge in the Fade instead of facing my problems, and I - I never should have done it.”

“Aye, but you did,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t just some good times in the Fade, lass. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I care about you, a great deal, as batty as that sounds -”

“Stop it!” she cried, and she clapped a hand over her mouth and tried to take a few deep breaths. The nearest table to them had glanced their way, and she worried if this continued as it was that they would create a scene.

“All I hoped was that I could find you, and now I have,” he said. “I don’t want to ignore this. However it began, it’s led us here, and I - I want to see what -”

“You can’t be serious,” she groaned, leaning forward to put her face in her hand. “What do you want me to do, hm? Vishante kaffas, I am _married_. I am - h-happily married.”

“Are you?” he asked, and she glared at him. He simply chuckled and shook his head. “You can’t blame me for asking, all things considered.”

“What he and I are dealing with right now has nothing to do with how I feel about him,” she snapped. “I love him, I will always love him -”

“You can’t deny there’s something here, though,” he insisted, sitting forward and gesturing between them. “There is. You know it just as well as I do -”

“I can’t be here any longer,” she declared and she grabbed her journal and threw it in her purse. Slinging the strap over her shoulder she pushed herself to her feet and hurried to navigate her way through the tables of the café.

The bell above the door rang almost indignantly as she pushed her way through it out onto the street. Crossing her arms she turned and began to walk away, but a firm grip on her upper arm stopped her.

“Let go of me!” she cried, turning and trying to shake his hold off of her.

Rylen let go of her and held his hands up in front of himself. “Abigail, please - don’t go, we need - we need to talk about this,” he pleaded.

“No,” she said, shaking her head adamantly as she tried to avoid the plaintive look in the way he was watching her.

“Please, I - I want to - I don’t know. I just know I can’t - I can’t let this - let _you_ \- go,” he said. “Have dinner with me, drinks, something. This evening. I want to try to make sense of this, figure it out. I want -”

“No,” she said again, still shaking her head.

“Listen, I’ll - I’ll be at the Hightown Pub, at six-thirty this evening,” he told her. “I’ll wait for you, if you - if you want to come.”

Abby stared up at him, still feeling so shaken that he was really here in front of her, towering over her in business attire, a shining badge affixed to his belt. His tattoos and scars stood out more in the sunlight, sharper in focus without the slight fog of the Fade, and his eyes shone so bright blue for a moment she felt speechless.

She loved her husband, that much she knew to be true. But this feeling, looking up at how avidly he was watching her as he waited to see how she responded to his request - this wasn’t so different. Confusion tore through her and her insides twisted, heart racing as she chewed her bottom lip.

But she was scared, scared of the way she was even considering it, the way she felt so drawn to him standing here. Without an answer she turned on her heel and hurried away, trying to think of what she was going to tell Leliana instead of focusing on his offer.

 

* * *

 

7:25.

Rylen swirled the whiskey in his glass again, the small amount that he was still trying to nurse, and decided it was about time to order another round. He had told her he would wait, and he meant it. Although an hour had passed, and he was beginning to wonder if she would show.

Real. She was real, and in Kirkwall.

The small doubts he had had before he saw her sitting in that café were replaced now by trying to make sense of it all. He was convinced it had to be some odd fate that kept throwing them together, first in the Fade, and then through work. Whatever the cause, whatever it meant, he was incredibly glad, and he still held on to his hope that she would show up.

He had seen it in her dark eyes, the way she had looked at him. It was more to her than just their time in the Fade, and he felt fairly certain she would seek him out.

Fairly certain.

 _Married_. He shook his head and drained the last of his drink, trying to figure out exactly how he felt. There was pain, definitely, a sort of remorse and regret that she wasn’t free for him to woo. And yet as he thought about it, he realized that he had anyway. The café wasn’t the first time they had met, not really, and it wasn’t as if he had tried to ask her out unprovoked.

His gaze wandered over the dimly lit bar area, intending to find his server to order another drink. But the thought slipped his mind when he saw the small figure making its way slowly toward him. He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his hands on his slacks as he watched her walking closer.

“You - you came,” he greeted her, and he considered how to acknowledge her. A handshake felt too formal, a hug too much - and so instead he sort of just nodded his head and smiled at her.

“Yeah, I - I almost didn’t,” she muttered, frowning slightly before she slid into the booth.

He resumed his seat across from her, and for a moment simply stared at her as she fidgeted with the drink menu sitting in front of her. “I’m - I’m glad you did,” he finally said.

She shot him a glance and then pressed her lips together for a moment. “I have - no idea why I did,” she said, and heaved a sigh.

“I -”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Rylen looked up at the server, offering a polite smile as he gestured his glass for a refill.

“Yeah, um - the - Mackay’s Mule, please,” Abigail ordered, seeming to point to the first drink she saw on the menu.

“For the mug I need your ID,” the server told her, making a slightly apologetic grimace.

With a soft sigh Abigail dug in her purse, pulling out her license to pass over. The server smiled and walked away, leaving a notable silence in her wake.There was so much Rylen wanted to say, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Instead he sat watching her clasp and unclasp her hands, shifting as she looked anywhere but him.

“Listen, lass, I - I didn’t ask you here to try to - go behind your husband’s back,” he said finally.

A wry smile pulled up one corner of her mouth and she met his gaze at last. “Aren’t we, though?”

Rylen dragged his hand down his chin, shaking his head as he looked out over the other tables. “I suppose we already have,” he admitted. “I - I’ve been trying to make sense of this all, but I’ll admit I’m a bit at a loss.”

“That sounds about right,” she murmured.

“So you don’t have any idea how I ended up in your little slice of Fade?” he asked, uncertain why he felt so much hope that she may have an answer for him.

“Nope,” she said simply, jerking her shoulders up in a shrug. “I have no idea. And honestly I avoided looking into it, I figured - curiosity killed the cat.”

“And you were still hoping if you ignored it, never met me, then you could - what? Pretend you weren’t making love to someone else in the Fade?” Rylen challenged, unable to resist. She was still avoiding really looking at him, and he felt slightly irritated as he thought again that she had made this choice - and didn’t seem to want to tell him why.

The server interrupted before she could reply, setting their drinks before them. Abigail murmured a thank you and reached out her left hand to pick up the Summer Stone mug, her immense diamond ring catching his attention again.

To his surprise she set the mug back down and leaned forward after the server’s departure, resting her forehead in her hand. “I have no idea what I thought I was doing,” she confessed. She glanced up and there was such a lost, mournful look in her eyes that he reached tentatively for her hand. “That first night I thought it was just the Fade, and then when you came back, I’d - I’d just received bad news. And I thought, maybe if I forgot for a night, if I didn’t focus on what I was feeling...”

“What bad news, Abigail?” he prompted softly.

She took a deep breath and chewed her lip for a moment. “Fuck it,” she whispered, and then raised her gaze to his. “My husband and I have been - trying to start a family. That second night, we’d just found out he’s - he ca - he can’t. I was ready to just curl up and cry in the Fade and then you - you walked in.”

“So I was - what, a distraction?” he asked, frowning even as he squeezed her fingers lightly. It was strange, touching her like this. She had felt so real in the Fade but now - her skin was so soft, her fingers chilled, and they twitched slightly in his grasp. But she didn’t pull away.

“Please, that early on, can you blame me?” she pointed out. “You can’t act like at the beginning it wasn’t just - sex dreams.”

He shrugged and nodded, silently conceding her point. “But then it - I mean it was every night, for over two months, lass -”

“I know,” she breathed. “I - I know. It was like - I can’t describe it. It was more than a refuge, I felt - I couldn’t stop.”

“What - what was it to you? You say you’re happy in your marriage but I - I remember all too well the way you’d look at me,” he told her. He leaned forward on the table, tightening his grip on her fingers when she tried to pull them away. “Look at me - I know - I know it meant more -”

“Stop,” she said, shaking her head. She finally pulled her fingers away, clasping her hands in her lap instead. “I can’t. I - I came here because - I don’t know. I wanted to see if I could make sense of things, but I can’t. I love my husband, I -”

“I’m not asking you to leave him, or anything like that,” he hurried to assure her. “I’m just trying to - to make sense as well. I care about you, lass, and I think you care about me too -”

“I -” she began, looking up at him with a pleading quirk to her brows, lips flexing as if she had more she wanted to say. Yet she didn’t say anything else.

“Tell me I wasn’t imagining things,” he implored her, holding a hand out to her. “Please, Abigail.”

“I - I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered. She grabbed her purse from where it rested beside her and slid out of the booth.

“Wait - please,” he called after her, but she didn’t heed him and raced out of the pub.

 

* * *

  
John frowned as he flipped the lights on, looking around the seemingly empty penthouse. He had expected her to make it home before him, considering he’d had to have dinner with a client again.

“Kitten?” he called, walking into the kitchen and setting his briefcase down.

No reply.

He frowned and walked over to the small bar they had, picking up a decanter to pour himself two fingers of scotch as he glanced at the clock.

8:23.

Replacing the crystal stopper he reached into his pocket for his phone, frown deepening when he saw no messages from her. He swiped open her messages and dialed her, taking a sip as he listened to the line ringing.

And then he heard the specialized ringtone she had for him in the hall, and the key turned in the lock.

“Kaffas,” she mumbled as the door swung open to reveal her digging in her purse for her phone.

“Abby, I thought - thought you’d be home by now,” he said, and her head snapped up meet his gaze.

“J-John, I - you’re home,” she stuttered out. She stepped inside, letting the door shut behind her. But there was a deep frown on her face, and she was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Everything all right, Gorgeous?” he asked, watching as she slowly walked to the marble island. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” she muttered as she threw her purse on the counter. Dragging her fingers across her forehead she shook her head and opened her mouth as if to say something, only nothing came out.

“What’s wrong?” He closed the distance between them, reaching to push her hair behind her ear. To his surprise, she pulled away from his touch, taking a step back. “Abby, I -”

“John I - I need to tell you something,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he assured her, but he continued to frown as he watched her shift nervously where she stood.

A few moments of silence passed before she opened her mouth once and then shut it, then tried again. “I - I think I - I don’t know how to say this,” she said with a sigh.

His mind raced and immediately jumped to the worst possibilities of why she was acting this way - _I think I - what? Want to separate? Divorce?_

“John, I - I cheated. In the Fade, I - I’m so sorry, I don’t - I don’t know how it happened -” she suddenly continued, the words pouring out of her as if she was tripping over them in her haste to tell him.

John frowned sharply, trying to take in the fluttery, rambly way she was explaining herself. “Wait, Abby, it’s - the Fade. Dreams are - or do you mean a _demon_ -”

“No, John, it wasn’t - wasn’t just dreams,” she insisted, shaking her head adamantly. “It was another dreamer. I found - somehow I found another dreamer in the Fade and we - we kept finding one another.”

“Another -” he repeated, staring at her and feeling his mind go blank. Sex dreams were one thing, but the way she was agonizing over it, calling it cheating - was he no longer enough for her? Had she sought this out on purpose? Wasn’t just dreams - what did she mean? “F-for how long?”

“A little over two months,” she breathed, worrying her lip. “The - the night before our appointment, I - I had the first dream.”

He remembered it, the way she had woken him up, the way she had climbed on top of him so wet, coming so desperately and quickly. But what she was saying didn’t make sense - dreams were just that, weren’t they? Although…

“Why are you just telling me now? If it was just dreams,” he began, but he trailed off and stared at her. “Abby what - what happened?”

“He’s real,” she said in a soft, pained voice. “He’s really real and in Kirkwall and I -”

“Abby please tell me - tell me you didn’t,” he pleaded softly, insides twisting as he dreaded the answer she might give.

_No, no, please tell me - she’s my Kitten, she wouldn’t._

“He asked me to dinner,” she told him, and she finally looked up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “And I went. I did, I - I went, and I don’t think I just went to see what the Voids was going on. I think - I wanted to see him. I wanted to -”

“You met him? You actually - went?” he repeated, staring at her as if he wasn’t really seeing her. “So are you - are you, what, having an affair? Is that -”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know!” She cried, throwing her arms out and letting out a short, exasperated laugh. “I honestly don’t know what the fuck is going on, John. He’s real, he’s here, he was looking at me like - and I sat across from him, and I remembered the times we were together in the Fade and I felt - I don’t know. I don’t even know what.”

“Is this - because of me? Am I not enough for you, anymore?” he asked quietly.

“No!” She exclaimed, shaking her head and taking a few steps toward him. “That’s not it at all. I - I ran out, because I love you. I do, John, I love you, so much. But the thing is - I - I looked at him and I felt _something_ . Something that didn’t feel so different from _this_.” She gestured between them, and tears finally began to slide down her cheeks.

John reeled, turning to lean back against the marble island, trying to steady himself as he drained the rest of his scotch. Abby stepped before him, peering up at him as she wiped at her tears, only to have them replaced by more.

“John?” she whispered.

“I - I don’t know what to say, Abby,” he told her. “I’m not enough for you, you’re - I should have known, should have expected -”

“Fasta vass, John! Handsome, that’s not it, that’s not it at all!” she cried, sobs accenting the words. “I don’t know what’s going on. I feel like I’m losing my mind, I - I thought it was just in the Fade but now - I don’t know. I have no fucking clue, and I -”

“What are you - are you saying you want to leave? You want -”

“No! John, I -”

Her words were interrupted by a few firm, loud knocks on the door. John frowned and glanced at Abby, but she was still trying to wipe at tears that continued to stream down her cheeks. Irritation coursing through him, he set his glass down on the counter and took a few long strides to the front door.

When he yanked it open he found himself face to face with a man a few inches taller than him, with tattoos lining his chin and his rather prominent nose. For having tattoos - and two long, jagged scars - on his face he was well-dressed in a light blue button-down tucked into slacks. Wavy chestnut hair caught the light from the hall, glinting reddish as he turned his head and looked past John at Abby.

“Can I help you?” John asked, though he felt he knew the answer, something inside him just knowing who he was facing.

“Aye, the lass - Abigail left her ID, I - got the address from it,” the man said, and he held out Abby’s license as if to provide evidence of his words. “Wanted to get it back to her, and see…”

Abby stepped forward and took the ID, and for a moment they simply stared at one another. “Th-thank you,” she finally murmured.

There was something in both of their gazes that felt like a knife twisting in the back for John, and he noticed the tender appeal in Abby’s eyes as she looked at this hulking stranger.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “I - I didn’t mean to cause problems, lass.”

“You thought sleeping with another man’s wife wouldn’t cause problems?” John snapped, glaring at the stranger.

“John -”

“Listen, mate, I - I didn’t know she was married,” he said. “And it was just the Fade. We only found out one another’s names today, when I showed up for an interview. I didn’t know -”

“And once you knew? When did you decide to ask her to dinner?” John challenged.

“I just wanted to figure out what was going on,” the man answered. “I'm not trying to - come between you two, or -”

John laughed, an unnatural, hollow sound, and looked between the pair before him. “You’ve done an excellent job of it, anyway.”

“John, please - I was trying to tell you -”

“I wasn’t, I swear.”

But John shook his head, dragging his hand down his chin as he tried to make sense of it all. He turned a sharp, challenging glare to the other man. “Stay away from my wife, or I’ll -”

“John, Andraste’s tits, please - I came home immediately and told you everything,” Abby protested, gesturing wildly as she cried. “I promise -”

“But he knew you were married and asked you to dinner anyway, he showed up here unannounced,” John countered heatedly. “Get the fuck out of my house, and if I see you again -”

“Mate, I’m sorry, I -”

“Rylen, no -”

“You’re sorry?” John interrupted them both. “Rylen, is it?”

“Aye, Rylen MacCallum,” the man answered. “I was simply trying to make sense of it, I - meeting a lass - a real lass in the Fade -”

“And fucking her right away too, apparently,” John sneered.

“Eh, she let me - she never said no,” Rylen insisted. “She never told me anything about herself once we realized what was happening, either, even when I asked.”

“Is that supposed to make it better? You showed up now to - what? What were you hoping to accomplish?” John asked.

“I’m not entirely certain,” Rylen answered with a shrug. “I’m just as lost about all of this as you two.”

“Don’t dare assume how I’m feeling,” John snapped.

“Please, can’t we just - talk about this?” Abby pleaded, trying to tug gently at John’s arm as she appealed to him.

“Not with him,” John growled, leveling the man with another challenging glare. “Get out of my house, and stay away from my wife.”

“John! I -”

But John stepped back and slammed the door in the other man’s face, quickly bolting the lock before he turned to face his wife. Abby took a few steps back to the wall, leaning against it as she clapped a hand over her mouth. Sobs shook her, eyes clenched tight as she merely cried desperately, unable to speak.

Anger and pain twisted inside him, and he stared at Abby as he tried, and failed, to make sense of how it felt like his world was falling apart.


	5. (I Love Her) and That's the Beginning and End of Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote. Monster of a chapter, but the title should give a hint to why, strangely. A lot going on, hope you enjoy!
> 
> xx,  
> Lara
> 
> P.S. A few added tags but nothing major or too smut related, just ones I happened to think of.

“Do you think it’s possible to love two people?”

As soon as the words slipped from Abby’s throat she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it as if to prevent herself expounding on the question.

“Ay-aye, I do.”

She wondered for a moment at the hesitation in Rylen’s voice, debating whether she could ask him about it. Was it because she had used the word love? Or was it because of everything that was implied within the question?

Frustrated, she rested her head on the hard door she was reclined against and pulled her knees up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them, staring up into the foggy white of the Fade above her.

“You still with me, lass?” came Rylen’s slightly muffled voice through the door.

“Yes,” she answered easily. “I was just thinking.”

“What about?” he prompted, and she closed her eyes at the sweetness present in his voice as he said it. Still, always, so much tenderness in how he asked her simple things, as he tried to get her to tell him more about herself, about her day - about anything and everything. He wanted to hear it all.

“About this, about - us. About John, and - I don’t know,” she heaved a sigh, “I guess just about everything.”

“I know it’s been weeks, but I - I still feel terrible about how I handled things,” Rylen told her after a pause. The door against her back rattled and creaked slightly, and she could tell he must be shifting on the other side. “I didn’t mean to throw a wrench in your marriage -”

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you that I was married,” she interrupted, but then she bit her lip and shook her head. “Well, I guess - that was fairly intentional. I just - I didn’t think it would matter. I figured eventually this would end, in the Fade…”

“I understand, Abigail,” he assured her. “It is a rather - odd situation to be in. I’m not sure I would have handled it much better. I’m almost certain I would have handled it similarly or worse, considering - considering how I acted once I knew.”

“It was a weird day, I think we all did things we regret.” She tightened her arms around her knees, trying not to think too much about how strained things had been for weeks.

They fell into a comfortable silence as she remembered the counseling session from that morning. John had been insisting on seeing the therapist more often, together, and she knew he had finally begun to see her individually as well.

_“Do you still see him in the Fade?” John had asked her, as if he finally dared, was finally willing to brave the answer that morning._

_“Yes,” she had answered quietly, trying to keep her voice steady._

_“You’re - you’re still…” But he had trailed off, one hand curling into a fist as he stared away from her, mouth resting against his other fist._

_“No, John, not like that,” she hurried to assure him, and she instinctively turned a plaintive look to the therapist before them. “The Fade is still bringing us together but I - I locked him out. We just - talk.”_

_“Talk?” John challenged, turning back to face her. The pain glinted in his grey eyes, and the steely look he met her with tore right through her._

_“Yes, John - we talk about our days, we - we - I promise, not since we met have I - I wouldn’t, not to you,” she stuttered out, struggling against the way the emotion caught in her throat._

_“But you did,” he breathed, and looked away once more._

_“Is that how you view it, John?” their therapist interrupted. The lines around her eyes were always so kind, even when she was probing the hardest spots, the tender wounds they both bore now. To ease them into it, she had insisted they call her by her first name, Wynne, instead of always calling her by her title. It was a small thing, but it had actually helped remove the formality for Abby, had eased her into trusting the older woman enough to tell her everything._

_Even about Rylen and the confused tangle of emotions in her heart._

_John had glanced up, flexing a fist and running his tongue over his teeth as he considered. Finally he lowered his arm to the armrest of the sofa they were on, tapping his fingers on the edge of it for a moment more. “Yes,” he answered at last. “I know it was just the Fade, but clearly - clearly it’s more than that.”_

_“Nothing ever happened outside of the Fade,” Abby protested, and tears had welled in her eyes at the accusation._

_“But I can tell you want it to,” John said, his voice low, yet it had torn through her as if he had screamed it at her. “How does that make it any different?”_

_“I had a chance and I didn’t take it,” she defended herself._

_“Yes you did, you met him for dinner after he asked you -”_

_“And nothing happened! Kaffas, John - he held my hand, okay? There, that’s -”_

_“Please, this sort of dialogue is not helpful,” Wynne had interrupted their rising voices. They had fallen silent, glaring away from each other, Abby wiping angrily at tears that had started to stream down her cheeks. “John, you’re upset that Abby took the offer to meet with this man for dinner once they found each other outside of the Fade, even though she came home and told you what she had done immediately. Is it that you worry she didn’t tell you everything, or just that she chose to go at all?”_

_John considered for a moment, still tapping his fingers on the armrest as he thought. Abby’s heart had raced, the silence as he thought through his answer torturous._

_“If she chose to take that step, would she - choose to leave me? We already haven’t been having an easy time of it,” John finally responded. “I feel like I’m not enough for her, and she went to meet another man, I - I’m fighting a losing battle -”_

_“Handsome, no -”_

_“Let him finish,” Wynne had quietly requested._

_“It’s made me feel as if - I don’t stand a chance, if it comes to choosing between the two,” John had continued after a moment. His voice was becoming firmer as he began to allow himself to confess what had been bothering him, the words seeming to take shape where they hadn’t before. “I’m older, I can’t give her a family - she’s still so young, she has so much of life ahead of her. I’d never - I’d never had to think of that before, not quite so - directly, as I do now with everything that’s happened. The difference in our ages, where we were in our lives - it hadn’t seemed to matter before, but now...I’m - I’m scared I’ll lose her, and accepting dinner, it - felt like the first step.”_

_Abby’s heart had clenched painfully, a tight pain in her chest almost stealing her breath as she listened to John make his confessions. She had been afraid of this, afraid that he thought they were heading for the end._

_“I don’t want that,” she had whispered._

_“Abby, what specifically don’t you want?” Wynne had prompted, jotting something quickly on the legal pad resting on her crossed knees._

_For a long moment Abby considered, trying to find the words to pin down exactly what she was feeling. She didn’t want to leave John - she loved him, possibly even more than when they had married, when she had felt so strongly that he was her everything. And yet when she thought about not talking to Rylen anymore, not seeing him, in the Fade or otherwise, she wanted to curl up in a ball, sobbing until she gave up on everything._

_No, she didn’t want - either of those._

_“I - I don’t want,” Abby began, but she had trailed off and for a long, silent pause she mouthed wordlessly as she struggled to articulate it. The word came to her, such a simple word she couldn’t believe she had lost it. “I don’t want to choose.”_

_“What?” John had asked, scowling as he glanced at her._

_“What don’t you want to choose?” Wynne had prompted again, a slight smile on her face as if they had tapped into something important._

_“I don’t want to choose, I - I don’t want to feel like I have to,” Abby confessed. She clenched her eyes shut, unwilling to see either of their reactions as she said it. But the truth - they were here and had promised to be honest with one another within these four walls. So honest she would be. “I love John, I always have, I always will. But I - the idea of not even just talking with Rylen in the Fade - I don’t want that either. I hate this, I feel - trapped. I’m so conflicted, I’m torn up inside, I can’t - I feel like I’m living two different lives, stuck as two different selves. I’m being tugged, this way and that, and I - I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be stuck in the middle, forced to choose which side I want to drift toward while I leave the other behind. I feel like I’m drowning, stuck like this.”_

_“But you’re - you’re my wife. Unless you don’t want to be any longer,” John had mused slowly, as if treading lightly, scared of where the next words might lead them._

_“John, you would have her make a choice?” Wynne had asked when Abby hadn’t immediately responded._

_“Don’t make me,” Abby had breathed before she pressed her fingers to her lips. She hadn’t meant to say it, but there it was._

_The truth._

_“I - I don’t know what else there is to do,” John had muttered._

_And then he had fallen silent the last few minutes of the session, as Abby had cried and tried to listen to Wynne encourage them to continue being honest even beyond the walls of therapy. As she had praised them for making such progress today, even though it was painful for them at the moment._

“Lass, can I ask you something?”

Rylen’s voice pulled her out of her recollections, and she wiped her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Of course,” she murmured, hoping that she hid the wavering of emotion that would give away the fact that she was crying - again.

“Do you not trust me?” he asked, the words coming out rushed as if he had to say them quickly to get them out.

“What do you mean? I - I do trust you, why would you -”

“You keep me locked out,” he interrupted, and she hated that there was pain in his voice. “Do you think I would - push for too much, or - Voids, even force you, if you let me in?”

“No!” She tightened where her hands gripped her upper arms, pulling her knees closer into her chest as she leaned forward to rest her forehead on them. “No, no, I don’t think that about you.”

“It’s been weeks,” he continued softly. “We’ve - we’ve talked so much I feel like I know you better than myself, I - I want to see you again. Not to hold you, I just - I’m sick of this door between us.”

“I can’t, Rylen,” she breathed, and she worried that he didn’t hear her or that he had woken up when the silence stretched on.

Finally she felt the door buckle slightly, as if he was sitting up away from it, turning to face it. “Why not, Abigail?”

For a long moment she pressed her lips together, tears streaming down her cheeks. She let out a watery, hollow laugh and brushed at the wetness on her face.

“Because I don’t trust myself.”

 

* * *

 

“John?”

He lifted his gaze from where he’d been staring at the overflowing bookshelf that lined one wall, lowering the fist he’d been using to prop his chin as he memorized the same book title again and again.

_Conquering Infertility - Together: How to Keep Your Struggle with Infertility from Ruining Your Partnership_

“Where did you go?” Wynne asked softly, offering a reassuring smile to accompany her steady, soothing voice.

“I - I don’t have much to say today,” he answered simply with a shrug. “That’s all.”

“And why might that be?” she prompted, making a short note on her legal pad just as she always did.

He fell silent, just as he always did.

“It’s been a few days since our session with Abby,” Wynne began slowly. She tilted her head as she considered him. “How have things been since then?”

“Quiet,” he told her.

“Did you continue our dialogue with her at home?”

“No,” he shook his head, but offered no further explanation from his monosyllabic answers.

“Was that because of her, or you?” she tried again.

“What’s the point?” he said, gesturing a hand to emphasize the futility. “It’s just prolonging the inevitable, dragging out the death of our marriage. I know where this is headed. I may not be a divorce lawyer, but I’ve seen this happen before with clients. It’s only a matter of time, now.”

“That’s a rather grim perspective,” Wynne pointed out. “After everything Abby confessed the other day, do you really think this is the end?”

“Yes, especially after that,” John rushed to say, his tone becoming more snappish.

Couldn’t she understand? Looking at her, she couldn’t be much older than him - didn’t she understand, even though she was a woman? Their age, both of them - what good was trying to compete with someone who looked like Rylen, someone who could offer what he could?

John had his money, and his title. That was all he had to offer now, and he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Not for someone like Abby.

“You think she will end up choosing? Do you still think there is no other way?” Wynne suggested after a long pause. Something in her eyes always made him think perhaps she knew what he was thinking, and her questions always seemed to see between his dodgy answers.

“If I were her, I wouldn’t choose me,” John murmured, hating himself the instant the words were out of his mouth. “I can’t give her what she wants. She’s always wanted to be a mother, she deserves that chance at a family. I can’t give it to her, but - someone else might be able to.”

“Hm, that sounds to me like a lot of rationalization,” Wynne mused. When he shot her a glare she shrugged. “You are rationalizing why you aren’t the better choice, so that when she makes what you see as the inevitable choice to leave you, you won’t be hurt. You’re building walls, distancing yourself, instead of listening to what she was actually saying.”

“I heard what she said,” John began impatiently.

“Yes, you heard - but I’m not so sure you listened,” she emphasized, holding his gaze pointedly.

“Oh? And what do you think I missed, Doctor?”

“She asked you not to make her choose,” Wynne said calmly. “She was telling you that she’ll only choose if you back her into a corner and force her to.”

“And how is that not me being rational? She’s my wife, that’s - that’s the choice,” John countered, but he wavered and frowned at the look Wynne was giving him.

“I think Abby was trying to tell you what she thinks and how she feels, if you would only listen to her words,” Wynne insisted.

“What, that she - she really doesn’t want to choose? That somehow she wants both, and I should let that happen?” John demanded, incredulous at the suggestion. “To me that just sounds like having your cake and eating it too, I - what, I should let her see him and sit at home waiting for her to be done?”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Wynne calmly replied. “Tell me, in those two months while she was seeing this other man, this Rylen, in the Fade - how did she act toward you? Were you neglected? Did you feel less love from her? It was during some of the worst of what you’ve been going through together.”

John considered, thinking over it and somehow struggling to remember. It took him a moment, but he realized why - he had withdrawn. The news they had received had made him pull away from Abby, and he - he had neglected her. Yet when he thought about moments with her, all he could picture were tentative smiles, reassuring caresses, and effort to show him love, to make certain he was all right. In those two months, she had spent their time together trying to care for him, doing what she could to bolster him and soothe him after he had found out he was the problem.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head and more firmly repeating, “no, she - she didn’t neglect me. She was trying harder, constantly reassuring me she loved me.” He stared at the floor for a moment before a wave of bitterness made his lip curl and he glanced to the bookshelf again.

“Perhaps it was guilt, though,” he added as an afterthought, “for what she was doing in the Fade.”

“I would wager there was a fair amount of guilt, but perhaps not for the reason you think,” Wynne speculated. “It could have been because she was receiving comfort for her struggles, and she worried that you weren’t. But if you didn’t feel less loved by her - perhaps what she has been trying to tell you is true.”

“Oh? What’s that?” John returned his gaze to Wynne’s, waiting blandly for her insight into what he thought was quite obvious.

“Love isn’t a zero sum game,” Wynne began slowly, as if carefully choosing her words. “You seem to think that any feelings she might have for Rylen detract from the love she has for you. But even in Abby’s own words, that isn’t the case. She’s been trying to tell you, in asking you not to make her choose, what she wants and needs from you. I would recommend trying to speak with her, with an open mind.”

John simply stared at the therapist, his mouth hanging open slightly before he regained his composure. “You can’t honestly be suggesting what I think you are,” John deadpanned, and he gave a short, hollow laugh. “So I what - give her my blessing?”

“I’m suggesting speaking with her, and really listen to what she has to say,” Wynne told him. “I will not deny there is a chance you might be right, that this is leading toward an end. That is a possibility, but I do not think it is the only one. You would do well to at least try - try to understand what she is telling you, try to see what other options are open to you both, try to do what you can. If you truly love her, isn’t it worth fighting for your marriage instead of giving up? Doesn’t Abby deserve your effort, and not for you to just accept defeat and throw in the towel, when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want you to?”

The whole rest of his day the session stuck with him, until he was positively useless at work. He was unable to focus on anything except how his mind continually returned to Wynne’s suggestions, and her insistence that he hadn’t truly listened to Abby.

Listened to what? Her pleas not to have to choose? The fact that she said she didn’t want to even give up talking to Rylen in the Fade? Did she expect him to ignore their marriage vows, the contract between them?

Them - the two of them.

Yet a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him, unbidden, _contracts are meant to be amended, when circumstances change._

He stopped trying to read the brief in front of him, throwing his fountain pen down as he dragged a hand across his mouth. For months now, he had felt lost, uncertain what to do. Ever since they came to Kirkwall he’d felt adrift. He remembered Abby’s words, about feeling as if she was caught between the two, and realized she had to feel just as lost.

Out of an incessant, uninvited sort of curiosity, he woke his computer up and searched for the man by name. Abby had told him a little of what she knew, like the fact that he was a detective, and he had introduced himself by his full name. The greeting had stuck with John, all these weeks later.

It wasn’t hard to find information on him, and John’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the recent news articles which seemed to have been spawned by his comments about mage rights reform within the legal system. John had heard mention of the comments, had heard others in the office talking about the policeman critiquing the DA and the PD, but he hadn’t realized it was - _him._

He wondered if he had if he would have disagreed with them on principle, instead of thinking that finally someone had voiced what he thought publicly enough to catch the city’s attention. It was a bold, daring move - perhaps not in Tevinter, but here in Kirkwall it certainly was.

Feeling a grudging respect growing within him, he clicked through to the official site of the KCPD to see what he could find.

Precinct, department - and contact info.

His finger hesitated over the mouse for a moment, debating clicking through the highlighted email to send one. An email could be ignored, missed - a call, on the other hand, had a better chance.

Impulse was something he avoided - control, composure, stoicism - that was what he presented to the world, what he strove for. Even though impulse had led him to Abby, his actions once he determined he wanted her had been careful, precise. He loved her wild spirit, admired the little chaos she brought into his life. He especially loved the moments when she left it in his care. But personally, it wasn’t something he gave in to.

Which meant it was a sign of how adrift he really was that he picked up his desk phone and dialed the number.

It rang twice, and when it clicked he felt the same calm wash over him that he felt before court.

“Senior Detective MacCallum,” came the deep, accented greeting.

“Rylen, it’s Jonathan Rullus,” he greeted easily. He felt the slightest relief that his voice had come out easily, firmly - and hadn’t realized just how nervous he was until that moment.

A beat, two, three of silence, and then, “Ah, and - what can I do for you?”

Here John paused as well, realizing he hadn’t fully thought through a plan. He had just wanted - he wasn’t entirely certain what.

“I - was hoping to speak with you,” he admitted.

“We’re speaking now, aren’t we?” Rylen pointed out, a breath of a chuckle following the words.

“Yes, I suppose we are,” John gritted out, hating that the other man was laughing at him.

“Is something the matter? Is Abigail -”

“No, I just - wanted to speak, just between the two of us,” John interrupted, chafing slightly at the easy, casual utterance of his wife’s name in that accent.

“Well, I’m at work, and I’m sure you are as well,” Rylen mused. A pause, and a huff of a sigh. “I’m off around six, this evening. If you wanted to - I don’t know, grab a drink?”

“Does dinner work? I could get us a table at Aqua Vitae for six-thirty.”

A bark of laughter, cut short and followed immediately by, “Maker’s balls, Aqua - aye, fine.”

“Excellent, I’ll call and make arrangements. Shouldn’t be a problem, the owner is a client of ours,” John mentioned offhandedly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Aye, I mean - unless you’re planning on poisoning me, or something,” Rylen quipped, and finally let himself laugh in full.

“I - no, just - just talk,” John muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head as the other man continued his deep chuckles.

“Well then - I guess I’ll see you at six thirty,” Rylen said, and the line clicked as he hung up.

The remainder of his time at the office passed in a blur, his briefs and preparations barely able to hold even half of his attention. He finally packed up at a quarter to six, no longer able to fake working. It was far earlier than he would usually leave, but he muttered, “meeting,” to his secretary as he walked by her desk and took long strides to reach the lift quickly.

A strange sort of impatience gripped him, somewhere between dread and apprehension. He wasn’t certain what could happen, what he could expect, or what he hoped to gain from this meeting. All he knew was that he couldn’t get any of it out of his mind - not what Abby had told him of the Fade, not what they had discussed a few days before with Wynne, not what Wynne had said that very morning. Perhaps if he had the story from Rylen, a chance to speak with him and ask him about it personally instead of just hearing it from Abby, he’d know what to do. After all, she was young, a starry-eyed romantic - she could be feeling more than Rylen was, and maybe if John could figure that out, maybe she’d let go of her desires.

Whatever it was he hoped to come of the dinner, he merely wanted to feel better, more determined - less lost than he currently did.

When he arrived at the restaurant he passed off his keys to the valet and strode in confidently to the hostess stand. The young hostess smiled brightly at him, and the portly, pleasant owner standing beside her turned to face John as well, greeting him exuberantly and waving off any worries about his last minute request. Both owner and hostess fussed over him as they led him to the table he had requested - a quiet one away from the kitchen and the bathrooms, where they could speak without constant interruptions.

The owner offered a bottle of wine on the house, and John gratefully accepted as he took his seat. As soon as he had taken it, however, he saw Rylen being directed by the hostess to the table and stood once more.

Rylen strode purposefully over, lacking any obvious hesitancy as he stopped before John. After a moment of holding one another’s gazes, they both reached a hand out, as if trying to be the first to offer an olive branch. The detective’s grip was firm - almost too much so - and yet brief. John gestured for the place setting across from his before resuming his seat.

An almost tense silence settled between them as John picked up his menu after placing his napkin in his lap, and Rylen looked over the dining room. His elbows rested on the table, and he absently scratched at the tattoos on his chin as a lazy smirk spread across his face. He finally looked down at the menu with a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

Right as John frowned and opened his mouth to say something, the owner appeared at his elbow, presenting a fine bottle of red wine from Tevinter and asking if it was acceptable. John nodded, giving a curt smile and waiting as the owner made a show of opening it and pouring a small amount for John to taste. He nodded his head in approval after he did, and gestured for both glasses to be filled.

Once the owner had bowed his way from the table, John raised his gaze over the glass he held to Rylen sitting across from him, only to be met with an amused frown.

“I’ve got to say, I’m not sure if I’m being wined and dined or threatened,” Rylen mused. He picked up his own glass and gestured it in a slightly mocking toast before taking a sip.

John chafed and set his glass down. “Neither.”

“Oh?” Rylen raised an eyebrow as if skeptical. “So then what - going to make me an offer? Leave Kirkwall, stay away from my wife, again?”

“I - no, I - I meant it, I just want to talk,” John replied, slowly losing a bit of his composure at the prodding humor that gleamed in the bright eyes of the man across from him.

“So do you always make such a show of your wealth and position when you simply want to talk to someone?” Rylen asked, and there was nonchalance in his tone even though he shifted and scowled slightly at the menu he held.

John cleared his throat and looked down at his own menu, trying to recollect himself before he responded. He meant to discover what was going on, and arguing with the man over bad manners wasn’t going to help him do that. “Apologies, the owner insisted - we helped him navigate some issues with the city that were holding up his licenses,” John murmured instead of the scolding he longed to snap.

“Plus this way you get to put me out of my comfort zone, while staying carefully ensconced in your ivory tower,” Rylen mused.

John set his menu aside, clenching his fist as he tried to steady himself. But something in him snapped, breaking the remainder of what little composure he’d had all day after being so thoroughly picked apart in therapy. For a moment he scrubbed one hand across the light layer of stubble surrounding his mouth, pressing his lips together as he tried to hold in his thoughts.

_Fuck it._

“Listen, I invited you here to talk, man to man - but if you just want to get your petty jabs in, I suppose this is pointless,” he snapped. “This entire situation is already so bizarre, can’t we just put aside our differences instead of acting like boys with rulers trying to prove who’s more of a man? Do you think you can handle that, _detective?”_

It was to Rylen’s credit that he at least had the sense to look abashed in response to the chastisement. He cleared his throat as he shifted to look away, resting his elbows on the table once more and running his knuckles back and forth on his jaw as he thought.

“Aye, I can,” he agreed. “Sorry, mate, I - wasn’t expecting your call. Figured perhaps you were - trying to get rid of me, not simply - talk.” After his admission he heaved a sigh and glanced sidelong at John before returning his gaze to the rest of the dining room. “If you want to talk, I’ll - listen, and tell you what you need to hear.”

John raised an eyebrow, studying the other man for a moment before he nodded. “Thank you.” For a moment he returned his attention to the menu, and sure enough soon their waiter had appeared at his elbow. Rylen ordered the fish pie and passed over his menu with a murmured thanks, and John ordered a light salad, realizing he felt slightly queasy from a day’s worth of fraught nerves. When the waiter had bowed himself from the table again, John took a deep breath and raised his gaze to Rylen’s.

“So, I - well, I’m not entirely certain how to start this,” John said. He straightened the fork beside his plate and took another deep breath so he could make another attempt. Before he could, however, Rylen leaned forward and spoke.

“Actually, I’d like to start by apologizing,” he told him, “again, I suppose. I really didn’t know she was married, and it was - so strange, anyway. I still, half the time, didn’t know if it was a trick of the Fade or if she was real.”

John considered for a moment before he shrugged. “I - I suppose you’re right,” he agreed. “Whatever brought you two together in the Fade, it must have been - hard to tell what was happening and why. Especially since you are not a mage.”

“No, but even Abigail didn’t know why it was happening,” Rylen added with a casual wave of his hand. “I tried asking, but she seemed just as confused as I was. Still, if I’d known, I - might have done things differently.”

John swallowed hard and looked away. “We can’t change what happened in the past, it’s best not to - dwell on it,” he said, then shook his head and gave an exasperated sigh. “Except, I suppose, that what happened in the past is coloring the present, and I - I’m not entirely certain what to do about it.”

“I am sorry if I caused problems -”

“Oh please - stop apologizing,” John interrupted. “Otherwise we’ll just keep talking in circles.”

A stiff moment of silence followed his words, punctuated by the sound of Rylen raising his glass of wine to take a deep gulp.

John glanced back at Rylen and decided to begin again. “How much did she ever tell you? About - us, and what we were going through?”

“She didn’t tell me anything about herself until we met in person,” Rylen replied with a shrug. “And then she finally explained. Told me that when we met in the Fade, you two had - been having issues conceiving, and had just received bad news.”

John gritted his teeth for a moment, mentally pushing away the bitterness that came with the memory, the irritation at hearing it spoken of so openly. “Yes, that’s - correct, we had,” he finally confirmed in a muted murmur.

“Aye, since then she’s - told me a bit more,” Rylen continued. “Since we met we’ve only talked, I swear to you. She keeps a door locked between us, but - she finally began speaking to me again, through the door. I take it things haven’t been - easy, since I came into the picture?”

“That’s the thing,” John shook his head before continuing, “in a way yes, in a way no. When you two were in the Fade together, she was - happy. Loving. But since she found you, since she’s had to lock you out, she’s been - distant, and it’s tearing me - us - apart.”

He hadn’t meant to be so honest, but after the day he’d had he couldn’t mince words. He was tired - tired of holding everything together, tired of feeling so lost and confused. Tired of watching his wife wilt and wither like a rose without sun and water, neglected and worldweary.

“I - had thought as much,” Rylen confessed softly. John glanced up once more with a frown, gaze roaming over his face as he worked to determine the source of tenderness in his tone of voice. “She hasn’t seemed herself, or at least - hasn’t seemed as I remembered her from when we first met.”

John nodded. “We’ve been seeing someone, but I’m not entirely certain it’s helping,” he admitted. “Or maybe it is and I’m just not pleased with the results.”

“How do you mean?”

John propped his chin on his hand, trying to decide how to express his discontent. “I’m losing her,” he muttered. “I can feel it. She - misses you. It’s obvious. But I’m - I’m not ready to let her go.”

“Who’s saying you need to?” Rylen pointed out.

“You know - that seems to be a theme this week,” John agreed with a soft chuckle. “Even Abby finally told me she doesn’t want to have to choose, even pleaded with me not to force her to. And today…”

But he trailed off, Wynne’s words playing through his mind until he lost himself in thought for several long moments, almost entirely unaware of the man sitting across from him.

“I was curious why today, since it’s been weeks,” Rylen said finally, dragging John back to the present. “It did seem out of the blue.”

John chuckled and shook his head. “It was impulsive, but after therapy today, I looked you up and found your number. Thought perhaps - maybe if I spoke with you, heard your side of things, what you - want, maybe I could make sense of everything.”

Rylen frowned, considering John for a long time before he sighed. “I can’t really cause any more damage by being honest, I suppose,” he mused. “Well, if that’s what you want to know, I - I want Abigail.”

John tightened his fist, insides clenching as he soaked in the words. Yet the pain was dimmed, somehow, just hearing the confirmation of what he had already assumed. “Yes, but - in what capacity?” John asked. “Do you want - to continue in the Fade as before? Do you wish she was free of me so you could have her to yourself? To see what it’s like to fuck her outside of the Fade? Or - what, exactly?”

Rylen chewed the inside of his cheek, and then shook his head. He leaned closer, keeping his voice low. “Listen, mate, there’s no way to say this without being blunt. I already know what it’s like to fuck your wife. I’m not trying to upset you or be crass, but there it is,” he pointed out, gesturing a hand. “That’s not what I want. I care about her, as batty as it is to care so deeply for someone you met in dreams. But I do. What I want isn’t something so - base, as simply having her beneath me again. I want to see her at the end of my day, I want to ask her how she is, hold her hand, take her to dinner. All those simple, romantic, everyday things - that’s what I want.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, John took a deep breath and then opened them to search out his glass of wine. He drained it, and Rylen reached for the bottle to pour him another. After nodding a silent thanks, he let out an abrupt, hollow laugh. “I knew, I think, that that would be the answer,” John told him. “Hearing it aloud is something else altogether, though.”

“Figured it was better not to beat around the bush,” Rylen replied with some deep chuckles of his own. “For what it’s worth, I’m not trying to come between you two or wreck your marriage. I’ve done my best to respect it since I found out.”

“I - appreciate that, though I think the damage is already done,” John conceded. “When you found out, were you - I mean, I can’t imagine you were pleased.”

“Aye, I was upset,” Rylen agreed. “Though perhaps not for the reason you might think. I - assumed it would mean an end, immediately. But we’ve still spoken, I’ve still had a piece of her in my life. I was disappointed, but I actually - don’t feel angry about it. I’m not sure I can explain it properly.”

He trailed off, staring at the wine in his glass before he finished it in one gulp. John watched as he topped himself off, considering his words. In a way, he understood what he meant. It had been a piece of information about her finally revealed, but how much could it really change between them considering everything that had already happened by then?

“My presence - hasn’t dissuaded you?” John prompted, frowning slightly.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Rylen agreed. “But not as if I’m going to pursue her anyway, it just - the lass was already mine in the Fade. And while she was, she was also yours, and yet - I didn’t feel as if I was getting less from her, even once I found out she was married. It didn’t take away from it, not for me.”

The statement recalled Wynne’s words from the morning, cementing the feeling he had been grappling with all day, the realization and acceptance of Abby’s time in the Fade.

“Rylen, do you - believe it’s possible to love more than one person? Equally?” John asked softly.

The laughter that met his words surprised him, and he raised his eyebrows as he regarded Rylen trying to quiet his unexpected mirth. “You’re not the first to ask me that,” he explained once he could speak. “And after she asked me, it got me thinking. I know it sounds batty to some people, but clearly for two months she cared for each of us in her own way, and neither of us felt short changed, eh?”

John fell into silent contemplation, absently swirling his wine in his glass. Their meals arrived as he thought, and they both murmured polite thanks to the waiter, John forcing a smile he could hardly manage as he mulled everything over. When they were alone once more he raised his gaze, still chewing the words in his mouth as he considered.

“Look, I suppose,” Rylen sat forward again, gesturing a hand toward John, “clearly Abigail loves you. I know we may have our differences, but perhaps we have more similarities than we think. Or if anything - we’re at least united by the lass caring a great deal for both of us. That means something, doesn’t it? How could I think ill of you when she obviously thinks so highly of you? And you care so much about her, as I do - that unites us as well, right? No use being so threatened by one another, really.”

John quirked an eyebrow, uncertain what to make of the other man’s bravado. “You’re either simply confident in yourself or incredibly cocky. I can’t decide which,” he commented after a moment.

Rylen smirked and winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he quipped.

Shaking his head, John looked away and tried to regain the thread of the conversation. He picked up his fork, but before he could even stab it into his salad a thought came to him and he set it back down. “Love isn’t a zero sum game,” he said, repeating Wynne’s words from the morning. He glanced back at Rylen, and noticed a thoughtful look on his face.

“Aye, I’d agree,” he murmured. “We’re so used to treating it that way, but that’s rather limiting, isn’t it? It’s not as if Abigail, or anyone, has a finite supply of love to offer.”

John nodded slowly, realizing little by little he was starting to see the wisdom in those words, to accept that it was possible. Abby’s soft pleas not to force her to choose had tugged at something in him, something he’d done his best to ignore, but now he felt it time to confront it.

“Your presence in the Fade while we were struggling - I’ve been thinking it made things worse,” he began slowly. “But it helped. Whatever it was you did for her, it strengthened her. She continued to give to me, and I think perhaps - without you, we would have fallen apart worse. I,” he swallowed the regret his actions inspired in him, “I pulled away from her, withdrew into myself. Without the comfort she received from you, I would have already lost her, I think.”

“Happy to be of service,” Rylen deadpanned. Then he frowned and a breath of laughter escaped him. “Actually, I mean that. If it helped Abigail, I - I am glad. As I said, I never felt as if I got less, not even after I learned the whole truth.”

With a nod, John shrugged. “It took me a long time to accept it, but - I’d have to agree,” he told him.

“So, then - what now?” Rylen asked, shrugging as well as he took a bite of his dinner. “I mean, we both care for Abigail, she cares for both of us. I’ll confess I won’t just - happily part ways. It’s not what I want, and I can’t bear to think of hurting her by doing so.”

John finally picked his fork up once more and took a bite of his salad, thinking hard as he chewed. Paths were branching before him, and in the distance on a few of them he could see an end, which he desperately wished to avoid. But at the end of at least one path, he saw a chance at a beginning, a way to keep his wife, everything he had ever loved. If he was already faced with the possibility to lose her, just as Wynne had said - wasn’t it worth taking chances, and fighting for her? Facing this all with an open mind, and doing what he could?

Setting his fork aside, he washed his salad down with a sip of wine and wiped his mouth as he tried to find the words he needed. One deep breath, and a hard swallow, and he glanced at Rylen.

“I’ll - start this simply, with something I’ve never voiced aloud, least of all to Abby,” he began. His heart was picking up its pace, despite how hard he tried to maintain his composure. But he felt the risk he was taking, let himself realize that this could either backfire and end in catastrophe - or it could be the beginning of everything. “I’ll admit to having always had - a secret fantasy, one I never thought or expected to be possible. Of being in the room, being in bed and - watching another man take Abby in front of me.”

Rylen raised an eyebrow, and his eyes dragged slowly over John in a thorough, discerning once over. “Aye, you seem the sort,” he commented casually. “Here’s the thing, mate. I don’t just want a one time chance at her outside of the Fade, or to fulfill some bored, rich couple’s kinky fantasy -”

“You misunderstand me,” John interrupted. “I started there because - well, this all began with sex, in a way. And confessing that part is strangely easiest.”

Rylen picked up his wine and silently gestured for John to continue.

“I’m still not entirely over the - hurt, that was caused,” he confessed, “but I realize that we’re all in a rather unique situation. And if I continue fighting it, I’m guaranteed to lose the only person I’ve ever truly loved. This isn’t a concession just to save my marriage, it’s more an acceptance of the problem and realizing the solution is quite simple. She wants - seems to need you, in her life. And we’ve both agreed, it’s not as if her feelings for either of us took away from the other. She clearly has an abundance of love to give.”

Rylen nodded, but gave a thoughtful shrug. “Aye,” he agreed. “But what’s your point?”

John took one last deep breath and cleared his throat. “As you said, if she feels so strongly for both of us, there has to be something to it, similarities we’ve missed because of the past. You’re obviously a bold man, from everything I’ve seen and read about you recently, and I - respect that.”

“And it takes balls to call your wife’s sort-of-lover to invite him to dinner for a calm talk,” Rylen mused. Again his eyes gleamed slightly as he smirked. “Not to mention I can see what else Abigail might see in you. Perhaps I misjudged, when I first sat down.”

John cleared his throat and folded his hands, elbows propped on the table as he readied himself for his next words. “I’m amenable to - seeing if we can figure this out.”

To call the look on Rylen’s face ‘surprised’ was an understatement. As if because he couldn’t think of another reaction, he let out a few barks of laughter before dragging his hand down his mouth and chin. “I told you, mate, I’m not looking to simply -”

“I know, I know,” John hurried to assure him. “Obviously it would involve speaking with Abby, and plenty of negotiating, ground rules, communication, I’m - I’m not saying it will be easy or even that it will work. But I refuse to lose Abby because I’m unwilling to open my mind to giving her what she needs.”

Rylen held his gaze, his lips moving as if he was rolling his tongue around in his mouth as he considered John’s offer.

“All right, John,” he agreed. “Let’s talk to the lass and see.”

John nodded, a strange sense of relief overwhelming him as he checked his wristwatch. It was almost seven thirty, and he realized Abby would already be home. Perhaps it would seem like rushing things, but the sooner everything was resolved, the sooner he would know if he had made the right decision.

An end, or a beginning.

 

* * *

 

“Did you valet? Here, I’ll - put his on mine,” John said, gesturing at Rylen as he spoke to the valet at the stand.

“You don’t have to -” Rylen began to protest, though he had a feeling it was useless. Sure enough, John waved him away, a small smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

“It’s my pleasure, really,” John assured him. “You remember the way?”

“Aye, I do,” he muttered. “Did you make certain she’s home?”

“Yes, she is,” John told him. The valet pulled around his unsurprisingly luxury black SUV and handed over the keys. “I’ll see you there?”

A moment later Rylen’s much older blue SUV was stopped by the curb as well. “Aye, I’ll just follow you.”

They nodded for a moment, and then parted ways without another word to get into their respective vehicles. As Rylen started his engine with a sound like a gurgle, he cringed inwardly to think of how everything about him must seem to the other man.

He focused on that as he drove, instead of the strange fog of emotions that otherwise clouded his mind in response to their conversation. Never before had he been so surprised by something, nor had he ever expected the other man to reach the conclusion he had. Remembering their first meeting, there in the threshold of the penthouse, he marveled at the shift in the man from _“stay away from my wife!”_ to _“Love isn’t a zero sum game._ ”

It was a conclusion Rylen had reached himself recently, though not so eloquently put. After Abigail had begun musing over whether it was possible, he had realized the struggle she was enduring and wished he could find a solution for her. He had tried for a few nights after that to will his spirit away from finding her in the Fade as he fell asleep, but to no avail.

Every night he still found himself there, standing before a locked door with her on the other side.

In the grand scheme of things, he knew it wasn’t his place to suggest the solution John had come up with, though it had crossed his mind. A few times while he was listening to her sound listless and unhappy through the door, he had considered it. But out of respect for the situation he found himself in and the sanctity of the lass’ relationship, he had refrained.

He had never expected for things to work out this way. Just as John said, he had also expected that a choice would be made, and quite honestly he knew he wouldn’t be the one chosen. What did he have to offer besides himself? And taking a risk on something new, leaving the comfort of years together, the comfort of everything John provided for her…

No, he hadn’t thought it likely he’d win out in a competition between the two.

They reached the apartment building, and Rylen followed John’s lead to the parking garage, pulling into a space that also bore the penthouse’s number beside where John parked. When he rejoined John outside their cars, he gestured at where he had parked. “Is that all right?”

“Of course,” John told him. “It’s for Abby, but she hates driving. Well - shall we?”

Rylen nodded and followed John to the lifts, hands in his pockets as he waited beside the other man for one to arrive. It wasn’t a tense silence as it had been, but he almost wondered if he should say something, or leave them both to mentally prepare. They stepped onto the elevator in unison when the doors opened, and John pressed the button for the penthouse before he also put his hands in his pockets.

“So - did you think this is where you’d be when you woke up this morning?” Rylen asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced sidelong at John beside him.

The other man’s cheeks flexed for a moment, but he gave a furtive look to Rylen before he shook his head. “But honestly I’m not surprised,” he admitted. “Nothing has made sense lately - why not have dinner and propose something like this to my wife with her dream-lover? Can’t get any more bizarre than it already was.”

They chuckled together, and Rylen found himself pleased to see John had a sense of humor beneath his stoic exterior. Even a dry wit would do, so long as the man could take some teasing and crack a few jokes from time to time. Little by little he thought he could see what Abigail must see in him, what had kept her beside him for so many years, had made her declare so firmly that she loved him in the face of Rylen’s tender regard.

The elevator stopped and John exited, Rylen following close behind. John paused before the door, as if suddenly second-guessing. “I - perhaps I should…” he began, but then heaved a sigh and shrugged. “No, perhaps it’s better to just go in together. Well, I - kaffas,” he chuckled softly, “nerves. Well, ready?”

Rylen nodded and waited for John to put the key in the door. He did so and turned it, taking one more breath before he turned the doorknob as well and pushed the door open.

“Kitten?” John called as he entered the penthouse.

Rylen followed him in, one eyebrow quirking briefly as he took in the form of address.

“Hey Handsome,” the answer came, slightly muffled even though it sounded close.

For a moment Rylen took in his surroundings, the ones he had barely glimpsed when he was first here a few weeks ago. The front door opened into a vast, high-ceilinged space, the left home to an expansive kitchen with gleaming marble counters and shiny chrome appliances. A large marble island with bar stools before it stood across from the counter that bore the sink and stovetop. Across a brief space that led to a curving and airy staircase to the second floor was a substantial living room. Several sofas made a U-shape in the space, and a white stone lined, magelit fireplace featured in one of the dove grey walls.

It was on one of these sofas, wrapped in a lavender and white blanket, that Abigail was curled up. She glanced over her shoulder as she heard John approaching, and then her eyes slid behind him to where Rylen stood. Immediately she perked up and her eyes widened. Throwing the blanket off herself she scrambled to her feet and circled the sofa. “What - what’s -”

“Abby, Gorgeous, we have - something we’d like to talk about with you,” John told her.

“You’re - here?” she addressed Rylen, taking a few hesitant steps as if she didn’t believe he was standing in her home. She finally tore her gaze from him after he nodded, and turned instead to John. “You’re - together?”

“Yes, we had dinner just now,” John informed her.

Rylen was amazed at the casual ease the other man was standing with, hands still in his pockets, showing perfect outward calm in the face of Abigail’s bewilderment. His admission of nerves came back to Rylen, and he admired how quickly the man had regained his composure.

“You went to dinner - with him?” Abigail asked her husband, folding her arms and raising her eyebrows. “I’m asleep, aren’t I?”

“No, lass, I’m really here,” Rylen assured her.

Her gaze flicked to his, and he was saddened to see dark circles under her eyes, a dispiritedness to the way her shoulders were slouched ever so slightly. “What - why? What do you need to talk to me about?”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” John suggested, gesturing a hand and looking to meet Rylen’s gaze.

Rylen nodded and followed the other man toward the sofas, but Abigail stood stock still as she watched this silent communication. “I -”

“Come along, Abigail, we’ll explain,” Rylen assured her as he passed her. He hesitantly put a hand behind her back, but he kept it from touching her, just guiding her in the direction of the sofas to join John with its nearness.

Abigail resumed her seat on the largest sofa, and Rylen hesitated a moment before taking the seat John gestured to beside him. Again Abigail watched the exchange, frowning between them.

“What the actual fu -” she began, but she cut off at Rylen’s chuckle.

John cleared his throat and leaned to rest his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands as he met Abigail’s gaze. “Since the other day, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, and what you requested,” he began, and Rylen was again impressed at how steady and determined his voice sounded. “I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and Wynne helped me see a few things I had either missed or ignored. I hope you know, Ki - Abby, just how much I do love you. I know we’ve had a rough few months - well, it’s been rough for over a year now. But I still wake up every day determined to do everything I can to make you happy.”

“I - I know,” Abigail breathed. She was clasping her hands tightly in her lap, and though she tried to hold her husband’s gaze, she continually glanced at where Rylen sat silently beside him. “John, I - you’re worrying me, I -”

“No, Gorgeous, don’t be. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how else to start this conversation,” John interrupted, and he gave an exasperated chuckle. “I’ve just given it some thought and realize that I - wasn’t really listening to what you were trying to tell me. And you’re right, I was pushing you to choose, but I think - perhaps there’s another way.”

Abigail’s eyes widened and flicked once more to where Rylen sat. “You - can’t be serious. You can’t seriously be suggesting what I think.”

“I’d like, if you are willing and have the same desire, to renegotiate the terms of our marriage,” John said when she trailed off.

 _How like a lawyer_ , Rylen mused, trying to hide his smirk behind his hand.

“You’re - you are saying what I think,” Abigail muttered after a moment, and she raised a hand to run absently through her hair. She looked almost shellshocked, wide eyes roaming over the floor as she tried to wrap her mind around the words.

“You were telling me, again and again, what you needed of me, but I was refusing to listen,” John continued. “I have considered, and I am - willing to try. With some - parameters, which I’m sure will be understandable?” As he said it he glanced at Rylen, who nodded.

“Of course,” he agreed with a shrug.

“You two - talked about this? At dinner?” Abigail guessed, sounding flabbergasted.

“Aye,” Rylen told her.

“Abby, I’m aware that we’ve all found ourselves in an unusual situation,” John continued. “As unique as it is, I can’t approach it with a standard solution. I don’t want to lose you, or back you into a corner and make you choose. It’s clear to me that you have deep feelings for both of us, and it’s unfair of me to ignore that fact for my own selfish vanity. It - has been suggested to me that I was treating love as something you can lose at, but - I realize now, after all of this, that that’s a limited way of looking at things.”

Abigail stared between the two men watching her carefully, but seemed momentarily speechless.

“Before we continue, do we - all agree?” John asked, glancing at first Abigail and then Rylen beside him.

“Aye,” Rylen said first.

“I - you would both do this for me?” Abigail asked, a frown puckering her brow.

“Aye, without hesitation,” Rylen agreed, and he offered her a smile.

“Yes, Kitten,” John said, and he reached a hand to where hers were clasped. “Do you accept?”

“I - I do, I’m just - confused,” she admitted, and again she looked around as if lost. “I just - figured you two would hate one another, and now you’re here, asking me to - I - I don’t quite know what to say.”

“Well, we determined we actually have a few things in common.” John gave a shrug and leaned back once more after he released her hands.

“Chiefly how deeply we both care for you,” Rylen added. “I think for that we’re both willing to set aside some differences.”

John nodded his agreement and looked back to Abigail. “I’m not saying this will be easy or will even work,” he said. “As with all things, it’s a risk that might not pan out, for any of us. But we won’t know if we don’t try, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can to make you happy. It’s what I promised when I married you.”

Abigail raised trembling fingers and pressed them to her lips, seeming for a moment to struggle. “I - thank you. Both of you, I - I don’t know what to say.”

“Well then, if I may?” John suggested.

Abigail nodded, still making obvious attempts to steady herself.

“Before we do go further, I’d like to - well, suggest the first ground rule that is most important to me,” John continued. He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully for a moment and then looked between the other two. “If we do this, we’re doing this together. For the time being, I am - uncomfortable with anything happening without me present or without my explicit consent.”

Rylen raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised even if he understood the other man’s reasons. After a few moments of careful consideration he met his gaze and nodded. “I can accept that. After all, she’s still your wife,” he conceded.

“Wait I - really?” Abigail interjected, frowning slightly. “I suppose I thought - you’re both all right with that?”

“Is that a problem?” John asked.

“No, just - surprising,” she confessed. “Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.” She cut off as she finished the statement, blushing slightly as she ran her fingers through her hair again. “Not like that, I just - I don’t know how to put it. It’s like you’re - two parts of a whole, that I - need. So I’m - I’m fine with that, but I’d like to - amend it? Just a tiny bit,” she hurried to assure John as he raised an eyebrow.

“What amendments?” her husband queried, sounding slightly wary.

“Just that simple things, like kisses, hugs, subtle touches - cuddling - that sort of thing, are allowed no matter who’s present,” she suggested. “I don’t want to have to feel like the desire to kiss either one of you is somehow - not allowed, or wrong.”

John gave a casual shrug. “You’re right, that’s - I agree to that, of course,” he told her. “Now for a more - clinical one, I suppose. But, well,” he glanced at Rylen, “for the time being -”

“Condoms, aye,” Rylen finished for him. “I was tested during my last relationship, but never hurts to do again. I’ll schedule an appointment.”

A slightly awkward silence followed this request, and then Abigail shifted and scooted forward to the edge of her seat. “I - I know there’s tension between you two,” she began slowly. “The only way this will work is if you - talk things through. I mean we’ll all have to, but I don’t want - please, try to get along, and if anything is bothering you, please talk instead of holding it in for my sake or to keep the peace. I don’t want to feel like I’m - making you miserable being in the same room -”

“If I thought that would be the case, I wouldn’t be suggesting this,” John assured her. To Rylen’s surprise he glanced his way and gave him a small grin. “But I understand what you mean, and I’ll - do my best, Kitten.”

“Aye, I will as well,” Rylen agreed. “I promise, Abigail.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Rylen considered for a moment, in the silence that followed thinking how best to phrase something that kept tugging at him. “I - I voiced this to John,” he gestured to his side, “but I’m - not looking for a one time thing, or just being used to fulfill some fantasy of a bored, rich couple -”

“Rylen, no,” Abigail interrupted. “That’s not what I want either, I want - I want this. I don’t want some random fling that becomes just something John and I did to save our marriage.” She grimaced slightly, as if taking in how bluntly honest her words had been. “I care about both of you, and I want this - desperately. I didn’t think it was possible, but I want - the three of us. Together. Both of you, I - I do. And…”

She trailed off, chewing her lip and staring down at her hands.

“Tell us whatever’s on your mind, Abby,” John encouraged her. “That’s the only way this will work.”

“I - this isn’t an open marriage, or a free pass,” Abigail murmured, glancing at first John and then Rylen. “I - it feels almost selfish to ask, considering what I’m getting out of this, but I want - fidelity. I don’t want either of you - seeing anyone else.” The last words came out rushed, as if she was anxious to ask them.

John shrugged, as if his answer was obvious, and Abigail turned her plaintive gaze to Rylen’s instead.

“Lass, I - I don’t intend to see anyone else,” he told her. “I haven’t wanted anyone else since I first met you in the Fade. Although…” He trailed off once more, again uncertain how best to phrase his thoughts.

“Rylen, that goes for you too,” John prompted him. “Feel free to speak your mind.”

“It’s just, I’m the outsider here, I’m not certain what boundaries I’d cross asking this,” he mused, thinking hard.

“You’re - you’re part of this now,” Abigail said softly. “I mean, it’s - they’re different levels, one is established, one is brand new, but this - the three of us - this is equal. I - I want it to be equal.”

“Aye, that’s sort of what I was thinking,” Rylen agreed. “I know you two are married and we’ll - essentially be dating. But I’d like to be considered an equal partner, at least in terms of - us. I’m not saying I need to be involved in the decisions of your marriage, or your mortgage, but when it comes to this relationship, I don’t want to feel as if you two call all the shots and I just have no say.”

“Of course,” Abigail agreed.

John nodded slowly. “If we ever make you feel that way, in terms of the three of us, please raise those concerns,” he requested. “You’re right, there are some things - perhaps only for now, at the start - that will only concern the two of us, but where the three of us are concerned, yes. I agree, that’s a valid point.”

Rylen smiled at both of them, grateful at how easily they saw his reasoning. He had expected it of Abigail, but it showed just how committed John was to figuring this out that he agreed as well.

“Well, I - unless we have anything else major before this begins?” John suggested, looking between the two. Abigail and Rylen both shook their heads, and John smiled as he pushed himself to his feet. “This will be an ongoing conversation, but I think for now we should call it a night. It’s Friday tomorrow, perhaps - Rylen are you free?”

“Aye, I’m not on call tomorrow or Saturday either,” he answered as he also pushed himself to his feet.

John reached a hand to Abigail and helped her to her feet. He cupped her cheek for a moment before he released her, turning to face Rylen and putting one hand in his pocket. “Well, then - dinner, tomorrow? Does seven work for you?”

Rylen nodded, heart racing slightly. Taking a day made sense, but also thinking of how soon things would be starting made him nearly batty with anxious excitement.

“I’ll make reservations, and we’ll pick you up?” John proposed.

“I can drive there, mate,” Rylen protested, shaking his head as he did.

John held his gaze pointedly, and if Rylen wasn’t mistaken one of his eyes twitched in a wink. “There’s no need, please - I insist.”

Rylen let out a huff of laughter and nodded, conceding to the other man’s insistence. “Aye, well then - tomorrow at seven.”

“We’ll see you out,” John said, gesturing one hand for Rylen to lead the way as he rested his other on Abigail’s lower back.

Digging in his pocket for his keys, Rylen led the way to the front door, followed closely by Abigail and John. At the door he turned, looking between the two, taking in the slightly hesitant smiles on their faces.

“G-good night, Rylen,” Abigail murmured.

Rylen smiled brightly at her, reaching a hand to her. When she held hers out he took it and turned it over in his fingers, then lifted it. He pressed his lips to her knuckles, letting his touch linger as he held her gaze, noticing the way she lit up in response. “Aye, I’ll see you later, lass,” he told her.

When he straightened and released her he met John’s gaze, and they held out their hands to one another. The handshake this time was warmer, as if between friends - a far cry from the challenging gesture that had started their dinner only a few hours before.

“Oh, I should get your phone number,” John said. He pulled his phone out, putting in a passcode and pulling up the keypad before he passed it to Rylen. “I’ll send you a text so you have my number, and tomorrow send me your address so we can pick you up.”

“Aye, of course,” Rylen agreed, quickly putting in his number. He passed the phone back to John and looked once more between the pair. “Well, tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” John agreed.

“Good night,” Abigail repeated.

Rylen nodded at them before he pulled the door open and wandered into the hall. He felt almost in a daze as he listened to the door close carefully behind him, his mind racing over the events of the evening. It was the last thing he had expected, but he smiled to himself as he studied the keys in his hand.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of everything, he felt certain of it.


	6. Kitten & Lass

Rylen tugged his tie off once more, shaking his head as he straightened it between his fingers before looping it behind his neck again. He wore a tie every damn day at work, yet tying one right now felt impossible, like he’d forgotten the skill entirely. Grumbling under his breath, he tried to work slowly, carefully weaving the tie over and under itself, finally forming a knot correctly.

With some quick adjustments, he managed a straight and presentable knot - though he tried not to compare it to how John’s was sure to look. It was his best tie, blue and white striped, which his sister Moira had given him for Satinalia one year with the comment that it matched his eyes. He tugged gently at the cuffs of his white shirt before he reached for his navy blue suit jacket and shrugged it on.

As he buttoned it he glanced at the clock - 6:46. He looked back to himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair and then dragging his fingers down the lines on his chin. From what Abigail had told him, it would be yet another fancy restaurant, some Orlesian fusion place called Jolie. But she had also said she had chosen it, so he was determined to hold his tongue about any pretentiousness.

His phone beeped and he picked it up from the dresser along with his wallet, keys, a pen, and a small notebook which he placed in his pockets as was his habit. He swiped his screen open as he turned away from the mirror finally, frowning when he saw that it was an unknown number.

 _(+9)797-555-4597 (sent 6:46pm): Hey, it’s your Abigail_ 💝 _We’re about to pull up outside your building_ 😘

A smile broke across his face, and he quickly replied, _Be down shortly, lass_ , before he locked his phone. Patting his pockets to make certain he had everything, he made his way through his small apartment, turning lights off as he went. He locked up after himself and hurried down the stairs to the front door of his building.

Once on the street he saw John’s familiar black SUV stopped beside the cars parked along the sidewalk. He slid between the bumpers of two cars and opened the door to the backseat, hauling himself up and in before he slammed the door behind him.

“Hi!” Abigail greeted him, looking over her shoulder and smiling brightly. For a moment he felt stunned at the sight of her, noticing the careful way her hair was styled, the slight sheen of her pink lips.

She hadn’t opened the door for him the night before in the Fade, but they had spoken at length through it. There had been a noticeable shift in her attitude, though she had been hesitant if not insatiably curious when he had first arrived outside the portal. All of the questions she must have been dying to ask about how he felt at dinner had come rushing out, questions about how he felt at the suggestion, nerves about the following evening. Her eagerness had been a quick change from the melancholy that had gripped her before. It had erased any doubts he had had, and they had enjoyed a wonderful night in the Fade discussing everything, much as she said she and John had discussed it after he left.

“Hello, Abigail,” he greeted her once he’d regained himself. He frowned for a second and then scooted to the middle seat in the back, wanting to have them both in full view. “John,” he greeted, and the other man flashed him a grin as he began to maneuver back into traffic.

“Am I in the way here?” Rylen asked, hunching slightly so that he didn’t block the rearview mirror.

“No, you’re fine,” John assured him.

Abigail was still glancing over her shoulder at him, giggles accompanying everything happening within the car. She pointed out the seatbelt to him, and he gave her a grateful wink as he pulled it across his body and clicked it into its home. For several moments only Abigail’s giggles punctuated the silence, and then Rylen cleared his throat.

“So, how were your - days?” he asked.

“I finished an article and passed it on to Leliana to edit, it should be on the front page tomorrow morning,” Abigail told him with another slew of giggles.

“The one about the reform in Parliament?” Rylen asked.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed.

“Is this your - third front page article, now?” John asked, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to give her a sidelong glance.

“Fourth,” she corrected. “I think - I think you missed one, while we were - um.”

Despite the moment of awkwardness, she continued giggling, and Rylen realized it had to be nerves. In a way it was comforting, knowing that he wasn’t the only one struggling with anxiety.

“My day was the same as it’s been, still working on familiarizing myself with my new clients and their business. How about you, Rylen?” John asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror again.

“It’s a Friday, that’s the best I can say,” Rylen grumbled, trying not to think of the long day of paperwork he had waded through, sluggish with distraction.

At this Abigail dissolved into more laughter, as if she thought it was the funniest thing she’d heard. Rylen frowned and John glanced sidelong at her once more, but she tried to quiet herself as she wiped lightly at her eyes.

“Sorry, I’m - I don’t know why, I can’t stop laughing,” she told them. “Maker, I haven’t been on a first date since - well, ours, I suppose.”

John lifted the hand that had rested on the gear shift and instead reached for one of hers, giving it a brief squeeze. She smiled at him and then glanced over her shoulder at Rylen.

“Maker, I wish - I’m so sorry you’re just stuck in the back like that, I -”

“Don’t worry about me, lass,” Rylen assured her with a smirk.

She reached behind her with a hand, and he gladly took it, squeezing her fingers and running his thumb over them before he released her. It was an awkward angle, and he did feel awkward in the backseat, hunched as he was, but the simple gesture from her removed all apprehension.

Before any of them could say anything else, John guided the car to a graceful stop in front of the restaurant.

Rylen unbuckled and slid across the seat to the passenger side so he could get out. He stopped beside Abigail’s door and opened it, and on the other side of the car he could hear John greeting the valet. Offering his hand to Abigail, he met her smile and helped her from the car before he closed the door behind her.

She stood in front of him for a moment, still simply smiling up at him. She was bundled up in a long black coat as well as a black and white polka dot scarf, and she carried a nude clutch that matched the thin, strappy stilettos that graced her dainty feet. The sight of her made his heart race, and he held his arm out as he marveled over how reality was finally better than a dream.

They circled the SUV together, her small hand tucked into his elbow, and stopped beside John. He greeted them with a smile, his eyes momentarily dipping to where Abigail was holding Rylen’s arm.

“Well, shall we?” John asked, gesturing a hand toward the door.

“Handsome,” Abigail chided softly as he turned away to lead the way into the restaurant. She reached with the hand holding her clutch and linked her arm through John’s, then giggled as she pulled them close to either side of her.

John and Rylen locked eyes over her head, both smirking at the happy giggles accompanying their steps to the door of the restaurant. Rylen was slightly amazed at the easy rhythm they fell into, as if all following steps in a dance together. He released Abigail’s arm and opened the door for them, letting them precede him before he fell back into step beside them - John released Abigail to step before the hostess stand, greeting and handling the confirmation of their reservation. When the offer was made to check their coats, Rylen helped Abigail shrug out of hers as John slid out of his before he reached to assist her with her scarf.

John glanced at Rylen as he handed over their coats, frowning slightly when he realized Rylen wasn’t wearing one over his suit jacket. “Aren’t you cold, Rylen?”

Rylen chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m used to the chill this time of year, I - suppose you’re both still adjusting.”

Abigail gave him a smile, smoothing a hand over the front of her sunshine yellow dress. It covered only one shoulder, the other which bore her stylistic watercolor Crystal Grace tattoo left bare. Rylen thought about the times he had nipped the design with his teeth, and his gaze wandered lower over the tight dress and how it hugged her curves all the way down to her knees.

“This way,” the hostess’ soft voice drew him back to the moment, and he turned on his heel to follow Abigail and John as they trailed after the woman.

They stopped beside an intimate four person table of highly polished golden wood, lit with several suspended twinkling magelights where candles would normally rest in the center. Rylen glanced around the room and saw that there were several other carefully crafted and colorful magic decorations, and he realized they must be in a mage-owned establishment.

John seated Abigail, and he and Rylen took their places on either side of her, across from one another. The hostess wished them a pleasant meal and departed, and for a moment they simply settled in and fidgeted with the menus before them.

“Interesting place,” Rylen murmured, looking over a cocktail menu that included several magically enhanced options.

“I - I picked it, is it all right?” Abigail asked, chewing her bottom lip as she stared at him.

“Aye! I just haven’t found many of these mage-friendly gems in my time here,” Rylen assured her. “Or at least, in my capacity as a private citizen.”

Abigail smiled in response and turned her attention back to the menu she held. “My best friend moved to Kirkwall a few years back, so when we followed suit a few months ago he already knew all the great spots.”

“Any preference on wine, Gorgeous? Or you, Rylen?” John asked, glancing up from the extensive wine list he held.

“I’ll admit to knowing very little about wine,” Rylen confessed with a chuckle. “I leave it in what I’m sure are your capable hands.”

“Do they have anything from Vyrantium?” Abigail queried, and she leaned over to look at the list.

“Mmm, let me see,” John hummed, and he continued scanning the list. “Looks like they do. Want one of those?”

“Yes, please,” she requested with a sweet smile. “Feeling homesick with all this cold weather, and that will remind me of our trip there for our anniversary.”

John smiled as he nodded, and Abigail shot Rylen a slightly timid glance. He reassured her with a wink, and she seemed to relax into her chair as she went back to scanning the menu. The waitress stopped beside their table and introduced herself, and John easily slid into the role that seemed to suit him best, responding charmingly as he ordered them wine, requested bread, and insisted on a light appetizer for them to share. As the waitress left he reached to Abigail’s hand and squeezed her fingers, smiling as she teased him about his insistence to fuss over her all the time.

A few moments of stilted silence followed, but Rylen finished deciding on his meal and set his menu aside, determined to dive right in. “So, you two have been married for - six years?”

“That’s correct,” John answered with a nod. “Together for - is it almost nine years now, Gorgeous?”

Abigail nodded agreement and set her menu aside as well.

“How did you meet?”

“Um,” Abigail began, and she looked at John before she giggled. “Well, I - I was a student at Minrathous U, and -”

“I was giving a speech at a donor event, a scholarship foundation set up by my family,” John continued for her. It seemed to be a well-rehearsed event, flowing naturally as they jumped back and forth to tell it. “And right afterwards, Abby came up and introduced herself -”

“Cornered you, more like.”

John smirked and nodded. “True,” he agreed. “Cornered me and demanded to know whether or not the cost of the ‘swanky’ event took away from the scholarship funds and whether or not I could justify the expense beyond stoking my own ego.”

Abigail laughed and shook her head, looking down. “I really let him have it, but I wanted a good quote for the school paper, and plus - well, once I’d seen how handsome he was I couldn’t resist.”

John smiled at her and reached for her hand, casually taking her fingers in his before he looked across the table to Rylen. “We ended up talking the rest of the night, and when we left the ballroom and found ourselves passing an empty room, I - pulled her into it for a kiss.”

“And the rest is history,” Abigail concluded, smiling softly at John before looking to Rylen. Something furtive and hesitant came into her gaze and she looked sidelong at John before she spoke again. “John was - married, at the time.”

Rylen quirked an eyebrow, looking between the pair. “Oh?”

“Yes, I’d been married since graduating university myself, before I began to pursue my law degree,” John answered. He frowned slightly for a second and then gave a rather nonchalant shrug. “We were beginning to fall apart, it had - not been an arranged marriage but rather an - encouraged one, between our families. A good match, both from families of laetens, meant to carry on the bloodlines. She was a wonderful woman, just - not for me.”

Rylen considered for a moment and then chuckled. “Considering how I met both of you, I’m the last to judge how relationships begin, I think,” he assured them.

“True,” Abigail agreed, and they all laughed for a moment, a bit of the stiltedness leaving as they relaxed into their conversation.

“How old were you when you met?” Rylen asked her.

“I was - barely twenty,” she answered. “We tried to keep it all quiet but - the gossip pages always love their juicy scandals, and we were kind of both already on their radar.”

“Really?” Rylen asked, but the waitress returned with their wine while a busboy placed a selection of bread and seasoned oil on the table for them.

While John handled the tasting and discussion with the waitress, Abigail smiled at Rylen. “My father is a rather popular political artist, very outspoken and well-known and loved in the industry and the Imperium for his work. And my mother holds salons for poets, artists, writers, intelligentsia - that sort of thing.”

“Must have been a fascinating upbringing, lass,” Rylen commented when she took a breath to thank the waitress for her glass of wine.

“It was,” she told him. The waitress stopped to take their orders before excusing herself, and Abigail sipped her wine before continuing. “It also meant that when news of Jonathan Rullus’ divorce broke and he was spotted with the very young, still-in-uni daughter of the artist Michael Henderson - well…”

John shook his head and picked up his glass of wine, sitting back to contemplate it. When he met Rylen’s gaze again he gave yet another shrug, as if to say, ‘what can you do?’

Rylen took a moment to let his eyes roam over the man’s face, taking in the wrinkles at the corners of his grey eyes, the hair that was almost entirely white and dark grey, even in his brows and the light layer of stubble dusting the lower half of his face. “Do you mind me asking how old you are, John?”

John gave a lazy smirk. “I’m almost forty-nine,” he answered. “I went white at forty -”

“It makes you look distinguished,” Abigail interjected before taking another sip of wine. “Wait, Rylen, I - I never asked you how old you are.”

“I’m thirty-five,” he told her.

“So I’m a baby compared to you two,” Abigail teased, scrunching her nose playfully at both of them.

Their appetizer arrived and John insisted on serving some on to Abigail’s plate before he offered it to Rylen. Thin, round pieces of pastry with a dollop of what looked like a cream and colorful caviar topped with herbs rested on the platter. Rylen took a few and nodded thanks to John.

“But enough about us,” John said as he took a few of the small pastries for himself. He raised his gaze to Rylen’s once more. “You’re from Starkhaven? What brought you to Kirkwall?”

“I was in the Templars,” Rylen answered once he’d swallowed his bite. “By the time I was getting discharged and the Order disbanded I had served two years in Kirkwall and just sort of ended up staying. Found a place in the training for the KCPD, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“The Templars? Interesting,” John mused with a frown. “I’m surprised, I’ll admit.”

“Because of the tattoos?” Rylen guessed.

“No, although it explains the scars,” John replied easily. “Your views on magic and mages, I - suppose I didn’t peg you for a former elite mage hunter.”

A tense silence followed the words, and Rylen glanced at Abigail, noticing that she had clasped her hands in her lap and was furtively looking side to side.

Rylen considered for a moment before he smiled and let out a bark of laughter. “First dates - there’s always that one awkward moment, eh?”

Abigail giggled nervously, raising her gaze to John, who took a moment longer to join in.

“Apologies, Rylen, I - didn’t mean it like that, although,” he hesitated, running his tongue over his teeth. He reached a hand to Abigail and gently brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek. “I suppose I can’t help but - be curious, considering - Abby is a mage. I guess Kirkwall has put me on edge, made me a little - overprotective. I meant no offense.”

“I understand, mate,” Rylen hurried to assure him. “In this climate, I can’t blame you.”

“I guess all the answers I needed were in how you handled those interviews,” John mused, almost to himself. “I needn’t worry that you might not be - protective or supportive of Abby as a mage.”

Rylen chuckled, shaking his head and taking a sip of wine before he responded. “Actually, it was because of the lass that I snapped that answer to the journalist in the first place.”

“Me?” Abigail asked, turning wide eyes to Rylen.

“Aye, lass,” Rylen told her. He hadn’t ever explained this to her, even when they had exchanged emails so that she could pass along a story to her editor. He had felt guilty that he had gotten in the way of her work by pressing her for a date, and had insisted that they conduct the interview, even if just via emailed responses to a list of questions.

“I’m not sure I follow,” John prompted when Rylen didn’t continue.

“I kept handling cases that were clearly hate crimes against mages,” Rylen explained, dragging a hand down his chin in slight frustration. It hadn’t gotten better since then, and he still felt trapped by the system he worked for, but he took a deep breath. “And it got me thinking - Abigail had told me she was a mage, that was - all I knew of her, really. When the journalist waylaid me with their questions, I thought how I would feel if something happened to Abigail, and - was perhaps a wee bit more honest than I should have been.”

“I disagree,” John told him. “I think you were assertive, and firm in your beliefs. It needed to be said.”

Abigail smiled and glanced at John, and then Rylen as well. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth for a minute before she tilted her head. “Do you have any family in Kirkwall? Or are they all in Starkhaven?”

“They’re all in Starkhaven,” he told her. He knew he had mentioned siblings, but they hadn’t gotten into the specifics in their nighttime talks. “Everyone’s still there - parents, eldest brother, my three sisters, all of their rambunctious wee ones. Honestly I think I liked Kirkwall because the idea of returning to all that racket was daunting. The holidays are enough.”

Abigail returned the smile he gave her, giggling when she reached over to squeeze his fingers with hers. “I’m glad you chose to stay,” she told him.

“Are your families in Minrathous?” he asked, running his thumb over her knuckles when she let her touch linger.

“For the most part,” John answered. “I have a brother in Antiva, he has several businesses there. But my parents are still at the family estate in Minrathous.”

“Mine travel between Minrathous, Ventus, and Vyrantium, actually,” Abigail added. “My father’s work has always been a little - nomadic, depending on where art shows and the like were. Home was always Minrathous, though.”

Once their entrees arrived they fell into congenial discussions of work, their days, more about their hometowns and families, funny stories from the past. After the initial, and expected, awkwardness that came with any first date, they took up an easy and enjoyable rhythm with one another. The slightly established nature of the separate relationships helped where they had hurt before, and Rylen found himself happier and more comfortable than he had been for as long as he could remember.

When the waitress suggested the bill she seemed to hesitate, implying that perhaps it would be split. John gestured at himself and insisted it was all on him, despite Rylen trying to protest otherwise. The waitress gave a knowing smile and passed the billfold to John, who passed it back immediately with what looked like a heavy, black metal credit card.

“If you’ll excuse me,” John said as she walked away, and he pushed back his chair so that he could stand.

After he left Abigail picked up her wine and drained the last little bit, but before Rylen could do more than admire the sight of her tongue flicking over her bottom lip the waitress returned to their table to drop off the bill.

“Thank you for coming in,” the waitress told them with a smile. She looked between them as she picked up a few plates and then her gaze settled on Rylen and she nodded her head at John’s empty chair. “Meeting the father?”

“I - what?” Was all Rylen could manage, his mind going blank as he tried to think of the words to explain that she was incorrect.

“Oh, no, that’s - that’s my husband,” Abigail corrected as she gestured a hand to that same chair, and Rylen could tell she was trying to hide the exasperation in her tone.

“Oh, I - apologies. Enjoy - enjoy your night,” the waitress stuttered out. She hurried off after an apologetic grimace.

Abigail watched her for a moment and then rested her forehead in one hand, leaning her elbow on the table as she shook her head. “Andraste’s tits,” she grumbled.

“Does that happen often?” Rylen teased.

“Unfortunately,” she told him, then heaved a sigh as she straightened once more. For several long moments she held his gaze, a thoughtful frown on her face. “Are you - all right? With everything, still?”

Rylen offered her a bright smile and took her hand in his. “Aye, lass,” he replied easily. “I’m - happy, actually. Are you all right? I know this all - changed directions quickly, it must be strange.”

“Strange but not unwelcome,” she answered, and she interlaced her fingers with his. “I feel the same, I’m - I’m happy.”

“Let’s hope your man is feeling the same,” he mused, and he glanced up to see John crossing the room to resume his seat once more.

He spared only a passing look at where Abigail held Rylen’s hand before he picked up the billfold and began to sign it.

“Handsome?”

“Hmm?” John hummed as he returned his card to his wallet and raised his gaze to meet hers.

“Are you - all right? Or - happy, maybe? After this?” Abigail prompted, and Rylen turned his gaze to the man across from him as well.

“I am, actually,” John assured her. He took her other hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her hand. “And you? Both of you?”

“The same,” Abigail answered. “I just - wanted to make sure. I mean this was - a test, sort of, and I know at least I’m pleased with it.”

“I agree,” John said as he released her hand. He silently turned a questioning look to Rylen.

Rylen smirked and nodded. “I’ll admit a part of me worried this was a mistake, but I think - at least at the moment, I’m content,” he confessed.

The three of them fell into silence for a moment before John glanced at Abigail, gesturing toward the door. She nodded and Rylen stood, pulling her chair back while John reached a hand to help her to her feet. As they made their way through the dining room to the hostess stand to retrieve the other two’s coats Rylen mused over the evening. His confession had felt natural, and he was pleased at how easily they had accepted it, and realized perhaps they must have felt the same. Only now, he was certain.

Any doubts that this might be a mistake had faded away amidst shared laughter and meaningful looks.

 

* * *

 

Abby flicked on the light as she led the way inside and set her clutch on the small table beside the door. She worked at the buttons of her coat and felt large hands reach to her shoulders to assist her. It was funny how she could tell whose without looking, recognizing the firm warmth of Rylen’s fingers as he slid the wool down her arms.

“Here,” John offered, and she glanced over her shoulder to see him accepting her coat from Rylen to hang on the modernist coat rack on the other side of the door. He had already hung his up, and he turned to Abby to take her scarf from her as well, just as he had at the restaurant. With a suggestive, incredibly familiar smile he slowly slid it off of her neck, and the sudden chill created by its absence made her skin prickle in goosebumps.

Or was it her sudden apprehensive excitement that made her tremble?

Taking a deep breath she turned from the two before her and wandered into the kitchen, debating what to do. Dinner had gone even better than she could have imagined, with only one or two hiccups - far less than she had expected. It was the sort of date that would usually lead to - this. Flirting, teasing, interesting conversation - she was still smiling when she thought of it all. Still, though, she felt slightly uncertain. She hadn’t been on a first date in so long, hadn’t had to do the unfamiliar courtship routine and she felt as if she’d forgotten how to do that, much less something more complex. How did something like this start? She and John were already - and she and Rylen had, in a way, considering how intense and real the Fade had felt. When John had had the car pulled around he had held her gaze meaningfully and asked if she wanted to go home, and Rylen had assured them he was willing to take everything as slowly as needed to keep everyone comfortable.

Abby had confessed the truth - she wanted this, wanted them, didn’t feel like waiting. They had both smiled and given her casual, intimate caresses - a brush of their fingers on hers, fixing the collar of her coat, lightly kissing her cheek or hair as they helped her into her seat in the car.

No, she couldn’t wait, even if she wasn’t entirely certain how one went about - this.

“Any interest in a nightcap?” John offered as he sauntered into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Rylen followed and stopped on the other side of the marble island, leaning his hands on it casually as he looked between the other two.

Abby bit her lower lip, looking first at John and then Rylen, realizing they both seemed to be following her lead. So far, directness had worked well, and after taking a deep breath she looked at John.

“No,” she answered softly but firmly.

John held her gaze a moment longer before he shifted it to Rylen, and after the silence passed he slowly smiled. “Well in that case - lead the way, Kitten.”

She hesitated only a breath to look at both of them, and then turned to the stairs and slowly began to make her way to them. She listened to the footsteps behind her, marveling at the way they seemed to match the thumping of her heart. With steady, careful steps she led them to the bedroom. Once inside she lifted a hand to cast, and soft magelight made several lamps flicker into being around the room, creating the appearance of twinkling light blue stars suspended in pillars of glass.

Stopping in the middle of the room she turned and watched as first John and then Rylen strode in. John was shrugging out of his black suit jacket, and he laid it over his arm as he began to fumble with the cufflinks he wore. Rylen took a moment to look around, hesitating longer before he slid out of his suit jacket as well. John threw his to the plush chaise lounge nearby, and Rylen took the hint and did the same.

Abby watched as the two shared a brief look, and John took a few steps toward her. He placed a hand on the side of her throat, tilting her face up with one thumb beneath her jaw - the same way he had that first kiss, all those years ago. The kiss now seemed to say everything there was between them, and when he pulled away he held her gaze for a moment before he released her. He stepped back once more, toeing his shoes off and still working at one of his cufflinks, and Abby looked to Rylen on her right.

There was an intense gleam in his aqua eyes, one she realized she recognized well - from their time in the Fade. She opened her mouth to say something, his name, ask him to come closer, anything - but before she could he closed the distance between them and had her in his arms. She swayed under the force of his passion and curled her fingers in his shirt, then slid one arm around his neck to twist her fingers in his hair. They had kissed before but this - she hadn’t known how different it would be. The heat of him, the taste of wine on his lips, and the scent of sandalwood made it realer to her in ways she hadn’t expected.

He continued to crush her to him, moving his hands to cup her face as he delved his tongue into her mouth again and again. Deft fingers brushed lightly at the skin exposed on her back and began to work at the zipper of her dress. John slid it off her shoulder and let it cascade down her body to pool at her feet. She felt the warmth of his breath on her skin as he began to trail soft kisses down one side of her neck, his fingers now working on the clasps of the strapless bustier she had worn under her dress.

Abby continued to return Rylen’s eager passion but released how she gripped him, moving her fingers instead to the knot of his tie so that she could slide it off him. After throwing it aside she began to work at the buttons of his shirt, but her fingers shook and she spent several moments fumbling before he finally broke their kiss. He took up her work on the buttons, breathing heavily as he tried to hurry to undo them.

John freed her from her bustier and tossed it carefully aside, then pulled her back to rest against him as he continued sucking and nipping at the column of her throat. He slid his hands to the front of her and covered her breasts with his palms, his long fingers working to massage them as he pressed kisses to the spot beneath her ear and sent shivers racing down her spine. Rylen raised his gaze occasionally from his efforts to undress himself to watch the path of John’s caresses, taking in the sight of Abby leaning back weakly against her husband.

When Rylen had stripped to his boxer briefs he reached a hand to cup her cheek, running a thumb over her lips as he glanced between the two before him. John slowly released her and Rylen pulled her back against him, giving her barely a moment that her skin wasn’t warmed by one of them touching it. His slightly rougher, thicker fingers grasped at her bared skin, and she dragged her nails through the dusting of dark hair on his chest as she tried to steady herself while they resumed their kiss.

Rylen’s hands were everywhere, and he kept her flush against his broad figure, as if he was relishing the feeling of her bare skin on his as much as she was. His hands slipped lower and he cupped her rear, squeezing for a moment before he suddenly stooped and lifted her. A surprised gasp pulled her from their kiss, but she had hardly registered his strong arms around her before the room spun and she found herself on her back on the bed.

From here she could see John, shirtless and unbuckling his belt, watching as Rylen knelt beside the bed and began to remove Abby’s stilettos. He slid off first one and then the other, but remained kneeling as he ran his hands up and down the backs of her calves dangling over the edge. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee, then her thigh, trailing his mouth up to her stomach so that he could place hot, wet kisses all across it. Abby shivered, her thighs tightening on either side of him where he rested between her legs, and she took shallow gulps of air as she writhed slightly under his attention.

Rylen slid his mouth lower, teasing his tongue along the skin right above her underwear. She flinched, a soft moan slipping from her throat, and she felt a warm huff of breath as if of laughter or contentment against her stomach. He hooked his teeth in the edge of lace on her underwear and tugged, pulling them down as he shifted back on his heels. As he finished sliding them over her knees with his hands John moved to the edge of the bed, fully stripped of his clothes.

Abby purred a moan, uncertain which name she wanted to say, and instead she lazily rolled her head to look at them each in turn. John rested a hand on the bed and reached once more for her with his other hand, letting his fingers ghost teasingly over her skin until she moaned more loudly.

Rylen gripped her thighs and pulled her legs over his shoulders, lowering his face to rest between her legs. The warm tickle of his breath only preceded the wet heat of his tongue by a second as he slid it to part her folds and run it over her clit. The warmth of him solidified her in reality, distinguishing this feeling from their times in the Fade because of how much she could really, truly _feel_  him.Soft cries greeted every slow, careful lick of his tongue, and still John took her breasts in hand, caressing her and gently tugging each rosy peak in turn between his fingers.

Pleasure coursed through her until she felt it from her head all the way through her fingers and toes. Her whole body trembled under the ministrations of John’s fingers and mouth on her breasts and Rylen’s lips and tongue lavishing her clit with attention. She felt as if every muscle was pulled taut, throbbing, and she gasped desperately for air as they continued to push her closer to the edge at breakneck speed.

John slid a hand down her stomach, then around her thigh, and she felt them both shift slightly as he searched lower. He swirled his finger around her swollen, sensitive opening and drew a loud cry from her as he slid two fingers within her at a torturously slow pace. He stroked her inner walls as he lifted his head and peered down at her, and still Rylen continued swirling and stroking his tongue along her clit.

“Ry - John -” she called out, but the rest of her words disappeared as her back arched and she convulsed. A strangled cry that was almost a scream was pulled from her, and she rolled and bucked her hips down, trying to seek friction against tongue and fingers as they continued to coax and carry her through her release.

With one last desperate shudder she went limp, flinching slightly when John curled his fingers one last time before removing them. She watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and sucked them, making a show of tasting her wetness. Rylen parted her legs once more and pressed a wet kiss to her abdomen as he pushed himself to his feet. He crossed to where his suit jacket rested on the chaise lounge and began to rifle through its pockets.

“Good girl,” John murmured as he leaned over her. He took her jaw in one hand and held her still so he could command her gaze, his usual slow smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. “Such a good girl coming so easily for us.”

“Handsome,” she mewled, reaching to twist a hand into his hair, trying to encourage him down to her for a kiss.

He obliged, but gave her fleeting kisses and tugged her bottom lip between his teeth. “Will you do something for me, Kitten?”

“Anything,” she rushed to answer.

“Be loud,” he instructed her. “Will you be a good girl and be loud? I want you to come whenever you want so long as you’re loud for me.”

“Yes, Handsome,” she agreed breathlessly, nodding her head and offering him a smile. “I will.”

He rewarded her with a deeper kiss, and she rolled slightly to face him, silently trying to beg for the attention of his fingers once more. Stronger fingers ran up her leg, and she broke the kiss to glance at where Rylen stood. She took in the sight of him, marveling at the muscles that flexed as he put one knee on the bed and began to stretch over her. Eagerly she parted her legs and reached for him, encouraging him down on top of her.

He adjusted her legs and fixed the condom slightly before he guided himself to rest against her opening. With one last hesitation he lifted his head to meet her gaze, and she gave a breathless smile as she nodded her eager answer. He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly slid within her, and she cried out, arching off the bed as she reveled in how he thrusted until he rested deep inside her. He paused again before he slowly rolled his hips, withdrawing and jerking back into her, commanding her attention with the intensity in his eyes. For a few moments he slowly rocked his hips into hers, holding her gaze as if he knew what she was thinking, as if he was thinking the same -

_At last._

When he pulled himself from her entirely she whimpered, but before she could entreat him back to her he used his strong hands to roll her onto her stomach. Understanding his intentions she eagerly pushed herself to her hands and knees, feeling the mattress dip as he knelt on the bed to take his place behind her. He slid quickly inside her once more, and they moaned in unison as he took up a quicker pace than before.

The mattress dipped before her as well, and she glanced up to see John kneeling before her. He twisted a hand into her hair, sitting back on his heels so that he could hold her gaze before he began to press deep kisses to her lips. Occasionally he stopped, pulling away to either hold her gaze or look behind her, murmuring praise to her as he watched Rylen thrusting into her.

“Ha-Handsome, come here,” she pleaded, pulling at his arm and trying to encourage him to kneel once more. He did so, releasing her hair and sliding his hand down her back instead, softly caressing her skin.

John was fully hard now, a few drops of excitement leaking from his tip, and Abby eagerly leaned closer to take the tip of him between her lips. A loud groan greeted a flick of her tongue, and she continued to lick and suck at him, bobbing her head and allowing the motion of Rylen thrusting into her to move her along John’s shaft. The soft velvet of his skin and taste of him in her mouth was even better like this, and she closed her eyes, enjoying herself and feeling - fulfilled.

That was it, the contentment that mingled with pleasure as Rylen continued pushing her closer and closer to coming undone. As she moaned around John’s hardness in her mouth, he purred ‘Kitten’ and caressed her skin - while Rylen gasped ‘Lass’ and tightened his grip on her hip so he could hold her steady against his thrusts.

When Rylen reached around to stroke her clit she gave a muffled cry, sucking harder at John as she felt herself careening wildy toward another release. John pulled himself from between her lips, again grasping her hair so that he could watch her face. He pressed a few kisses to her, but he seemed merely intent to watch as she cried out and jerked her hips back to meet Rylen’s thrusts.

Her release crashed over her, another loud cry of Rylen’s name the only word she managed before she shattered, losing herself completely in a primal, uneven response of her hips. Rylen groaned even louder, almost roaring as he finished with her in one last deep thrust. She took panting breaths as she tried to keep herself upright, and glanced at John still watching her intently. But he was smiling, and again he held the back of her head, murmuring soft praise to her that he accented with loving kisses.

Rylen pulled himself from her and she finally collapsed on the bed, letting out soft, breathy giggles as she panted. She could hear Rylen handling the latex of the condom, and John quietly directed him to the small trash can. A moment later the mattress bounced as Rylen fell onto the bed beside her, and when they met one another’s gazes they smiled.

“Kitten, come here,” John directed her. He reached for her and helped turn and adjust her so that she now faced the edge of the bed he stood beside. With a slight frown on his face he leaned over her and brushed hair off her damp forehead, running his thumb over her cheek and her lips as he studied her. “Are you all right? Need a moment, or -”

“I want you, Handsome,” she told him. “I’m fine, I - I want you. Please.”

He smiled and slipped his hand between her legs, determining for himself. Straightening once more he leaned to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out the bottle of lubricant he kept within. After he deposited some on his fingers he spread it over her and then wiped the remainder on his hard length. “Better?” he asked as he returned his fingers to her once he’d set the bottle aside.

“Mmm,” she hummed happily, and wiggled her hips toward him.

“I want you to come for me too, Kitten,” he instructed.

“Yes, Handsome,” she assured him.

He held her legs wider as he slid within her, and a deep groan slipped from his throat as he tightened the hand that held her thigh. For a moment he kept his eyes closed, listening to the soft moans she gave, and then he opened them to search out her gaze. He seemed to be making certain she was all right, still, and she granted him a smile and rolled her hips to encourage him.

As he began to thrust in earnest Abby arched off the bed, closing her eyes to savor the feeling, the slight difference of John within her after Rylen had just made love to her. At the thought she looked to the side to find Rylen watching her, and he rolled closer to seek out her lips. For several long moments they twisted their lips against one another, exploring each other before he pulled away.

Rylen shifted on the bed and lifted her head, which he propped on his shoulder so that she was reclining on him. From this vantage point all she could see was John moving between her legs, hips bucking as he slid within her again and again. She gasped and moaned, reaching one hand to John’s forearm to clasp it, the other reaching behind her to twist in Rylen’s hair.

“Look how well you’ve taken us both, lass,” Rylen purred in her ear. He teased the shell of her ear with his tongue, and the tickle of hot breath when he chuckled sent shivers all throughout her. “Look at your man fucking you like that - he wants you to come for him too. Are you going to lass?”

“Yes,” she mewled, tightening where she held both of them. To her surprise, John tightened his grasp as well, glancing at where Rylen was cradling her and murmuring in her ear.

Rylen moved one hand to her breast, squeezing and caressing it as he found the pulse point on her neck and laved it with his tongue. “Are you going to be a good lass for us? I want to watch you come too, Abigail, and he wants to feel it. You feel so good, coming around a cock as hard as you do”

“Kitten,” John moaned, as if he could feel her getting close, and he moved a thumb to ghost lightly over her clit. To her surprise he almost seemed to be struggling, losing a bit of the careful control he always maintained over himself when he took her.

There was too much, she didn’t know what to focus on or how to keep it in, but she remembered John’s encouragement and now listened eagerly to Rylen’s. She let her cries escalate, but she did what she could to keep her magic in, though it fizzled around the edges, her skin tingling as she tried to hold back. Rylen’s smooth brogue purring in her ear, John’s practiced touch on her oversensitive bud of nerves, the feeling of him thrusting deep and fast within her was too much.

For a moment her vision went black as a sharp cry heralded her undoing, and she felt the warm pulse of John’s release within her. Beyond realizing he had come with her, though, she was unaware of anything but the way her body writhed, her third climax tearing through her like a shockwave. As she went limp John collapsed over her, burying his face on the other side of her neck from where Rylen still rested his lips.

Abby continued to hold them both as she tried to catch her breath, one arm around John’s shoulders, the other looped behind Rylen’s neck. They shifted and began to press kisses to her, and she closed her eyes, feeling more content than she had thought possible. Again a sense of complete fulfillment warmed her, and she let herself enjoy the soft touch of their lips and the heat of their sweat-slicked skin against hers. Delicious exhaustion - and all she wanted now was to stay like this and slip into sleep.

John finally raised his head and found her gaze, smiling as he searched it as if he could discern her mood. “I’ll get the shower ready, Kitten,” he told her once he had determined she was all right. He kissed her, letting his lips linger for a moment, and then he finally pulled himself from her and stood up from the bed.

She curled up and moved until she was facing Rylen, and cuddled herself into his arms. For a long moment he simply held her, brushing his lips against her forehead and combing his fingers through her hair.

“You’re better than a dream,” he murmured.

“I was thinking the same,” she agreed with a soft giggle. Raising her gaze to his she offered a tentative smile. “Are you happy?”

“Happier than ever, lass,” he assured her. “I wasn’t certain what I would feel but - I’m pleased. All I feel is how - right this feels.”

Abby nestled more intimately to him and closed her eyes. “It does.”

“The water’s hot,” John called, and Abby lifted her head from Rylen’s shoulder. John slowly meandered to the edge of the bed and held a hand out to her.

She accepted it and he pulled her to her feet, and once he made certain she was steady he offered a hand to Rylen as well. Abby smiled at the sight and wandered shakily into the bathroom, almost stumbling a little from the way her knees were still weak. The large glass shower stall was coating in steam from the hot water running, and she eagerly opened the door and stepped beneath the rainfall showerhead.

The door opened behind her and Rylen and then John stepped in, and she giggled as she moved to give them access to the water.

“No, come here, lass,” Rylen told her, and he pulled her back under the water, pressed between their chests.

She giggled and settled between them, closing her eyes at the feeling of hot water running down her and hands gently caressing her waist and arms. John picked up her sponge and body wash, lathering it up before he passed it to her. While she washed herself he did the same for Rylen, passing him his body wash before he poured some of Abby’s shampoo into one hand.

He was always so sweet, even after the times when they didn’t ‘play,’ taking care of her in the simplest ways. Rylen cleaned himself and rinsed off as John massaged Abby’s scalp, gently lulling her into a relaxed trance as he did. A hand took the sponge that she held forgotten, and she opened her eyes to watch as Rylen began to clean the rest of her.

“You’re both too good to me,” she murmured.

“Anything for you, Gorgeous,” John told her, and he kissed her cheek before he turned her so that she could rinse her hair.

Rylen chuckled and ran the sponge over her back, and John began to clean himself as if he knew she was in capable hands. “Aye, lass,” Rylen agreed.

“Are you all right, Abby?” John asked, and she glanced over her shoulder to see him watching her with a small bit of concern knitting his brow.

“I’m better than all right,” she assured him. “Are - are you?”

“Yes,” he told her. “I - enjoyed that even more than I thought I would, Kitten. You were excellent.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, leaning against him for a moment.

“Rylen, are you -”

“Aye, mate, that was - you’re right. I enjoyed it more than I expected as well,” Rylen interrupted John’s question. When Abby glanced between the two she saw them hold each other’s gaze for a moment, but when Rylen smirked and winked John looked away to finish washing himself.

Once clean and steadier than they had been, John turned the shower off and exited first, grabbing two fluffy towels which he passed to Rylen and then Abby. He wrapped it around her shoulders and began to dry her, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” she responded. She pulled the towel more tightly around her and turned to face Rylen, hesitating and wanting to say something - but instead she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a brief kiss before she left the bathroom.

By the time John and Rylen had re-entered the bedroom, Abby was in her satin nightie and sitting in the middle of the king-sized bed finger combing her damp hair. John crossed to his dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of boxer briefs, and once they were on he walked to the side of the bed. Rylen dropped the towel from his waist and searched out his clothes, but after he’d put on his underwear he reached for his slacks and shook them out.

“What - Ry, what are you doing?” she asked, sitting up straighter in bed and looking to John before she returned her attention to Rylen.

“I was - I thought I should get going,” Rylen answered.

“What? No, you’re - you’re staying here,” she told him, glancing once more at John, who nodded at the other man. “Unless, I mean if you don’t want to…”

Rylen straightened and raised an eyebrow, looking at the pair sitting on the bed. “Aye, I - I do, I just thought maybe…” He trailed off and reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out his phone but tossing the garment aside.

“No, if you want to stay then come here, we - we want you to. I’m sorry I thought you knew that.” Abby pulled back the covers invitingly, patting the space beside her. Rylen sank onto the bed, chuckling slightly, and he situated himself before he leaned back on the pillows. He began going through his phone, and when Abby glanced to her other side she saw John doing the same. She laughed and laid back on the pillows between them, drawing sidelong looks from both of them.

“You two look so funny right now,” she teased.

They looked at one another and shrugged.

“Emails, I missed a few -”

“Checking my messages, making sure my partner hasn’t -”

They stopped their tandem explanations and Abby dissolved into giggles once more. “It’s Friday night, work can wait,” she scolded them both. “I’m exhausted.”

“Sorry, Gorgeous,” John said, and he set his phone aside on its charger. “Oh, Rylen, do you need a charger?”

“He can use mine, I don’t need my phone right now,” Abby told them. She pointed to the other nightstand and Rylen gave her a smile as he placed it on the charger. “Now come on, you two wore me out.”

“Oh, we wore you out, lass?” Rylen quipped, and he let out a few barks of laughter.

John joined him as he settled back on his pillow, holding an arm out for Abby to take her place. She rested her head on his shoulder, tucking herself against his side. With a glance over her shoulder she smiled at Rylen, silently trying to encourage him to her.

He only hesitated for a moment, and it looked more as if he was trying to decide on the best position. His knees tucked up easily under hers, and he curled himself against her back, taking no mind of John’s arm around her and resting between them. Abby raised a hand and waved it, extinguishing the magelit lamps in the room and plunging them into blackness. Rylen wrapped the arm not folded under the pillow around her, taking hold of the hand she had laid on John’s chest.

With a satisfied purr of contentment Abby snuggled between them, enjoying their warmth and the utter sense of complete safety that overcame her.

“Good night,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.

“Good night,” two deep voices responded, and she smiled to herself.

Vaguely she wondered what might happen in the Fade, but happy exhaustion kept her from wondering for too long. She slipped into slumber easily, lulled by the deep breathing of her lovers surrounding her. Sleep brought shapeless, formless dreams, simply old memories brought on by wisps of the Fade and nothing more, but she found she didn’t mind.

Reality had been better than dreams had ever been.

* * *

 

His alarm was louder than normal, and he blinked one bleary eye open as he tried to determine why he was so hot and tangled up. Another figure shifting and the silhouette of broad shoulders pushing up to reach for the other nightstand made him realize why.

Between them Abby groaned sleepily and sank further into the sheets. John reached for his alarm beside the bed and turned it off before he glanced over at Rylen propped on one elbow to turn his phone’s alarm off as well.

“Sorry, lass,” Rylen muttered.

She merely hummed in response and remained with her head under the covers. Rylen smirked and glanced at where John was pushing himself to a sitting position and scrubbing his hand down his face.

“You going in to work, mate?”

“Hm?” John glanced over his shoulder. “No, no - morning run.”

Rylen chuckled and the bed shifted as he pushed himself up to a sitting position as well. “That’s what my alarm was for as well but I just remembered I don’t have my things.”

John frowned as he stood, stretching slightly and eyeing the other man. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“Eleven, eleven and a half, depends,” Rylen told him.

John chuckled and gestured him to follow. He led the way into the walk-in closet and turned the light on. “One of those pairs should fit you, and I’ve got plenty of socks and running clothes. Take your pick,” he offered with a casual shrug.

“I - thanks, mate,” Rylen murmured. He chuckled as he picked up a pair of running shoes and glanced to where John was changing. “Good thing we’re the same size, then.”

A brief silence fell between them, and then Rylen let out a few barks of laughter. “Shoe size,” he added.

John nodded understanding, but memories of the night before came back to him as he finished getting ready. They weren’t unpleasant, just - new, and unfamiliar. Neither of them spoke, but he found he wasn’t uncomfortable. Just tired, and focused - because if he didn’t force himself to put his shoes on and get out the door, he knew he’d encourage them both back to bed. Although whether just to hold Abby and keep sleeping or wake her up, he wasn’t entirely certain.

Rylen was digging through the closet for a top as John finished tying his shoes, and he found his eyes wandering over the man. He studied the tattoos encircling one bicep and the opposite forearm, and the similarly styled one that spanned his broad chest. With a frown John tightened the laces he had just tied and stood once more.

“Did you get your tattoos in the Order?”

After tugging a hoodie that was baggy on John but tight on him, Rylen ran a hand through his hair and looked up. “Hm? Oh - aye, during my training,” he answered with a shrug. “Young, foolish, missing home. I still like them, though, so there’s that at least.”

“I should hope so, considering they’re so prominent,” John quipped.

Rylen laughed and shook his head. “Fitting, considering,” he said, and he gestured around his nose with his fingers, emphasizing its size as if it was a beak.

John joined his laughter, marveling slightly at the man’s easy, nonchalant confidence in himself. He zipped the tight jacket he wore all the way to his chin, and then looked to Rylen. “Ready?”

Rylen nodded, leading the way out of the closet. He stopped at the nightstand to pick up his phone and watch. Abby stirred in the bed and rolled over, lifting her head to look at them.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” she mumbled, her hair adorably mussed from having slept cradled between the two of them.

“We won’t, I promise,” John assured her, laughing softly when she collapsed once more onto the pillows, eyes already closed to seek sleep. He led the way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen. “Need anything?”

“Nah, I run best on an empty stomach,” Rylen answered.

“Same,” John agreed.

They left the penthouse together, John locking up behind them and pressing the button for the lift. Rylen was fidgeting with his watch and his phone, and when John looked over he saw him programming something between the two. He glanced up and caught John watching him, then gestured his watch with a shrug.

“I like tracking my run times, distance, that sort of thing,” he explained. “Where do you usually run? Memorial Park? That’s near here, right?”

“Yes, it’s just across the street behind us,” John told him as they stepped onto the lift that had arrived. “There’s a path that’s about three miles, if that’s all right for you?”

Rylen nodded, fiddling some more with his watch before he put it on his wrist and pocketed his phone. He stretched his arms and rolled his neck, chuckling softly. “I’m stiff, I’m so used to sleeping on my own and taking up the whole bed,” he muttered. “I didn’t crowd you, did I?”

“No, I slept fine,” John assured him. He frowned as a thought came to him, and he looked to Rylen beside him. “Did you - did you meet her in the Fade, last night?”

Rylen met his gaze and shook his head. “No, I was - surprised,” he confessed. “I didn’t dream, just - blackness, as far as I recall.”

“Interesting,” John managed to comment before the doors to the lift opened.

They fell into thoughtful silence as they crossed the lobby and walked out into the brisk autumn morning air. John led the way to the park in a jog, surprised slightly when Rylen fell into step with him and kept pace all the way to the park. He wondered if he would hurry on ahead, but he continued jogging beside John as they started along the path within Memorial Park.

Occasionally they made passing comments, but seemed somehow comfortable just running beside one another as they looped through the park. John lost himself simply enjoying the quiet of the start of the day, of birds waking, of squirrels and nugs chattering in the underbrush. He usually ran alone, since Abby was more interested in yoga or exercise classes, but he found he didn’t mind the company.

It was comfortable, as if between friends, however bizarre that was to realize.

Three miles passed easily, and when they reached the front entrance of the park they slowed, taking deep breaths. Rylen hit a few buttons on his watch before he put his hands on his hips and looked to John.

“Done?” he asked between panting breaths.

“Yes,” John agreed, gesturing for them to make their way back to the apartment building.

“I was slow, still feel last night’s dinner,” Rylen commented absently as they walked along the sidewalk.

“I appreciate you blaming that instead of politely keeping pace with me,” John replied with a smirk.

“No, mate - I mean it, I’m not used to eating that rich,” Rylen denied, patting his stomach. “Gotta stay fit if I’m to keep taking down dangerous criminals.”

“I’d have thought you worked off the dinner last night,” John quipped, and was pleased when the only reaction he got from the other man was hearty barks of laughter.

“Aye, I should have stretched more before our run.” Rylen held the door open as they reached it, allowing John to enter the lobby first.

“Mr. Rullus, how are you this morning? Your morning paper arrived, is there anything else we can get you?” The pleasant voice came from its normal place behind the large wooden desk, and John walked over to accept the paper from the concierge.

“No, thank you, I think we’re fine,” he answered with a smile.

“I see Mrs. Rullus made the front page again,” the concierge continued. “Tell her wonderful job from me, if you would.”

“Of course,” John agreed, nodding as he gestured the paper and resumed his path to the lifts once more. He noticed the man’s eyes glance behind him to where Rylen stood, but he seemed to know better than to say anything and merely nodded a polite, curt greeting to Rylen as they continued on their way.

The lift was already at the lobby, and they stepped on together before John keyed in the code for the penthouse. As the doors closed he unfolded the paper, shaking it out and holding it so that they could both study the front page.

 _Legislation Before Parliament Could Remove Mages' Right to Workplace Privacy_ by Abigail Henderson. A subheadline read, “Claims of Public Safety to be Weighed Against Privacy Concerns in Upcoming Debate.”

John frowned, realizing he hadn’t had a chance to ask her what she had been working on lately. They had been so tense, and then when they had begun talking once more it had been about what was to come, not work. The headline concerned him, and he quickly began to scan the contents of the article.

“Feckin’ blighters,” Rylen muttered beside him.

John gave a noncommittal hum, still trying to read the article and calm the way his heart picked up its pace. It might not have been obvious to anyone else reading the article, but -

“She’s scared,” Rylen commented, and John glanced over his shoulder at him.

“You can tell too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the look of concern and frustration on Rylen’s face.

“Aye,” he answered with a sigh. “She always tries to hide it. We’ve talked some in the Fade, since we actually met, but - here, this line here - she’s thinking of herself and what it will mean for her.”

John nodded agreement and heaved a sigh as well. “I worried about this when we decided to move here, but,” he trailed off and shrugged. “She’s stubborn.”

Rylen chuckled. “Aye, she is,” he mused, his tone almost wistful, yet it made John smile. “The lass - she’s not out to anyone at work, is she?”

“Her editor, Leliana,” John told him. “But everyone else, no. We’ve done our best to keep her identity obscure here, it’s part of why she publishes under her maiden name.”

“I wondered if that was why,” Rylen commented casually as they strode off the lift once it had stopped.

“Partly to keep me safe as well, all things considered,” John added. “Family name, public figure in the Imperium, that sort of thing. I was going to run for the Publicanium, but she got the offer for The Herald and there was - a specialized clinic here as well. So we moved, despite the risks.”

Rylen raised his eyebrows as John swung open the door and they entered the penthouse. “You gave that up for her?”

John nodded, frowning slightly as he thought of it. When he met Rylen’s gaze, he was pleasantly surprised to see a thoughtful, almost approving smile on his face. Why it made him smile as well he wasn’t sure, and so he gestured to the stairs and led the way up.

Abby was buried once more beneath the covers, one hand peeking out to rest on the pillow. The sight made John smile wider, and beside him Rylen chuckled.

“Guess we really did wear her out,” John mused, and Rylen clapped a hand over his mouth to try to keep his mirth under control.

“It’s funny to see her sleeping,” Rylen murmured once he’d stopped laughing. “Considering I always met her when she was asleep.”

John glanced aside at the other man, but somehow where he thought he’d feel irritation or pain, he felt acceptance. Being honest about everything, talking it through so openly with both of them, had somehow removed his anger. They had all been in bed together, he’d seen Rylen making love to her, and yet what they had noticed before had held true - he didn’t feel as if it had diminished their relationship at all.

Folding the paper again, John stepped carefully to the bed and tugged the covers down to Abby’s shoulders. She stirred, lazily stretching like a kitten as she blinked her eyes open. When she saw him she smiled, then looked over her shoulder to see Rylen standing beside the bed as well.

“Good morning, Kitten,” John greeted her. “Your article is on the front page - want me to make some coffee or espresso for you while you read it?”

“Mmm, yes please,” she agreed, and she slowly pushed herself to a sitting position. With a yawn she finally threw back the covers and began to climb out of the bed. “How was your run?”

“Excellent,” Rylen answered. “If you’d like, I can make you both breakfast.”

Abby giggled and looked between them before she sauntered almost dreamily to the walk-in closet. “Breakfast and coffee sounds perfect,” she agreed when she reemerged, pulling her long silk robe over her shoulders. The creamy white of the silk caught the light, and the black trim of the flowing sleeves and opening of the robe fluttered as the fabric billowed with each of her steps.

John smiled as he admired her, loving how she looked so elegant even in her adorable sleepy state. He passed her the newspaper he held before he turned and led the way back downstairs, where he set to work preparing the Orlesian press to make them coffee. Rylen stopped in the kitchen as well, gesturing to the refrigerator as if asking permission.

“Please, help yourself,” John told him as he measured out freshly ground coffee. “There should be some fresh eggs and bacon in there, vegetables, cheese - I’m not sure what you want to make but we should have it.”

Rylen opened the fridge and began to look through its contents, getting out the items he needed for breakfast. John pointed out the skillets and the pantry once he’d set the water to boil, and then he leaned against the counter with his arms folded. Abby was sitting at the island, the copy of the Herald spread before her, but her eyes were moving between John and Rylen instead.

“What?” John asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“You two are cute together, making breakfast,” she teased. “I could get used to this.”

“Get used to us positively spoiling you, lass?” Rylen glanced over his shoulder as he placed some rashers of bacon in one of the skillets.

“And here I thought I already spoiled you enough,” John mused with an overdramatic sigh. He looked to Rylen and they shared a laugh together, shaking their heads. “She’ll be impossible, now.”

Rylen heaved a huge sigh as well. “Aye, we’ve created a monster.”

“You two,” Abby chided, giggling as she returned her attention to the front page of The Herald. “Leliana reworded my headline, but - I expected that. It was a bit lengthy. Kept trying to fit in what bits of kaffas the Loyalists are.”

John chuckled as the kettle chimed, and he poured it into the press over the coffee grounds. “Need any help, Rylen?”

“No, mate - I’ve got it,” Rylen said, waving him off.

John got out three coffee mugs and set them to wait on the counter before he moved to sit beside Abby. She smiled at him briefly, though the frown returned to her face as she continued reading the front page. Remembering the subtle tone of fear in her words, he reached over and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. She returned his pressure, looking up and allowing him to see the worry on her face for once.

“Don’t worry, Gorgeous,” he murmured. “We’ll take care of you.”

“Aye, a lawyer and a detective - you’re in good hands, lass,” Rylen assured her with a wink.

John smiled at the words. “I hadn’t even thought of that but - he’s right. And it may not even pass.”

“I know.” She sighed, then folded the paper and pushed it away from her. “Enough of that right now, it’s bumming me out. I’d rather think about what we’re going to do with our day.”

John stood once more to finish the coffee, and he poured them each a mug. “How do you take your coffee, Rylen?” he asked as he sought out the creamer Abby preferred in hers.

“Black if you will, mate,” the other man told him. “Anyone like their bacon extra crispy?”

“Yes, please,” John answered. He set Abby’s mug in front of her and Rylen’s beside him as well before he began to get out plates and silverware.

“So what are we doing today?” Abby asked as she blew on the steaming coffee in her mug.

“Are we - all…” Rylen began but trailed off, looking over his shoulder with a frown.

“Unless you have things to do,” Abby answered slowly, frowning a little as if disappointed by the idea that Rylen might have to leave.

“No, just assumed - you’d want the day to yourselves,” Rylen told her as he returned his attention to the stove.

“I don’t want you to go,” she confessed softly, glancing at John.

John smiled and winked at her. “I’m sure we can come up with something to do.”

She giggled and looked over her cup of coffee at him, chewing her bottom lip before she nodded. “We’re all new to this and well - practice makes perfect.”

A smirk came to his face as he looked between the two, noticing they had the same thoughtful gleam in their eyes. Practice did make perfect, and John had always been a perfectionist, after all. The night before had been a start, but they did have the whole weekend ahead of them - and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend it than in bed.


	7. Handsome & Amatus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks head out of the bushes I've been hiding in for a few months*
> 
> Oh hellooooooo!
> 
> I took a much needed break, letting my muses rest, letting myself rest, letting myself remember why I write while also dealing with some RL stuff. And now I'm back (sporadically, I can't promise steady updates for the time being) and I definitely plan on going easier on myself with my expectations. 
> 
> I've had half of this chapter written for a few months now, and let myself just take it easy and write it when it came and set it down when it didn't, just as I have been with everything else. One of the things I decided was - as much as I've loved the flow of having all three POVs in each chapter, the word counts keep climbing and climbing while I have them continue to navigate these emotions and relationships. It'll be easier on me, easier on you, for me to let these be shorter and not bogged down in quite so much detail each update, especially now that they're evened out and in agreement/a relationship. So moving forward, they may be a mix of solo, double, triple POVs and I'm just going to let it be and not stress over it.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading, especially if you're sticking with me after my absence and especially if you're reading this entirely, 100% self-indulgent fic <3
> 
> Lara
> 
> P.S. This fic shares Modern AU base canon with my joint fic with dismalzelenka, and as such Cullen is with her OC Solona Amell.

It took Abby longer than she really thought it should to realize that she wasn’t actually in her bed, but instead the -

_The Fade!_

She scurried to push the covers back on the bed, hopping off the edge and hurrying to the door nearby. With one easy motion she unlocked and opened it, eyes widening as soon as she saw Rylen waiting on the other side with a bemused frown on his face.

“Ry!” she cried. In the same moment he smiled and held his arms wide she jumped into his embrace. She circled his neck with her arms, clinging tightly to him as he straightened to lift her so she could wrap her legs around him.

“I didn’t expect to find myself here again,” he murmured against her ear. “The last few days - hmm.”

“The last few days you were actually with me,” she mused, frowning as she pulled back slightly so that she could look at him.

He walked into the bedroom, smiling at her as he carried her to the bed. “Aye, it’s curious,” he agreed, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress as he settled her in his lap. “I’m not complaining though. I missed you today, lass.”

“I missed you too,” she told him, scattering kisses on his cheeks and lips, nipping his chin with her teeth after she traced the lines there with her tongue.

“It felt silly after we’d spent the whole weekend together. And Monday night. And Tuesday night.” He slid one hand under the pajama top she was wearing, caressing her back as he held her gaze. “But I did - I missed being away from you for one day.”

“It’s not silly,” she assured him, idly twisting the waves of hair at the nape of his neck with her fingers. “Even just after five nights I was getting used to having you around.”

“I was getting used to having you,” he murmured. Before she could say anything he pressed his lips to hers in a fierce kiss, crushing her to him as his hands began to wander lower to slip into the waistband of her pajamas.

“Wait, Ry.” She broke the kiss and leaned back, trying to catch her breath as she pushed lightly on his chest. “We - we agreed.”

“Even in the Fade?” he asked, pursing his lips as he thought. His brows furrowed and he looked down as if thinking, and when he met her gaze once more there was an almost sheepish quality to his stare. “Lass, did - did you and John - tonight?”

Abby smiled and placed a hand on his cheek, understanding and trying to convey to him that she did with just a touch. “No,” she answered honestly. “He got home late, we were exhausted. Just curled up and went to sleep.”

Something almost like relief came across his face and his shoulders relaxed. “Aye, I - I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t think like that, but I just suddenly felt - jealous, I suppose. If he got to have you tonight but I couldn’t even here in the Fade...”

“I know, Ry,” she assured him, leaning her forehead against his. “I wasn’t sure I’d meet you in the Fade tonight, I - I guess I’ll have to speak with him in the morning. Well, _we’ll_ have to speak with him. See what to do, this is - unusual.”

“It’s all been unusual,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I’m just glad to see you. All day, my thoughts were of you, how much I’d miss seeing you. I felt spoiled from so many nights having you in my arms, the idea of sleeping alone - while he still had you in his arms…”

He trailed off, as if his honesty had been too much. Abby shifted and clung more tightly to him as she pressed brief kisses to his lips. “Even when you’re not with me, I’m still yours, too,” she told him softly. “Both of you were never far from my thoughts, I promise.”

His grip on her tightened, a soft breath of laughter slipping from his throat before he smiled. “I suppose I’m only human,” he said. “I hadn’t expected to feel so strongly about this all so quickly, or adjust to everything so easily in just a few days.”

“True, it has been going remarkably well,” she mused slowly, and they both laughed at the unspoken memories they shared. “I didn’t think you and John would get along so well. I thought I’d have to force you two to talk or something.”

Rylen shook his head and shifted on the bed, taking her with him as he settled back on the pillows. She rested on his chest, content to be held by him and thinking for a moment over how strange it was. In her bed, John was holding her physical body, and here Rylen held her spirit. It was oddly fitting.

“He’s more interesting than I thought,” Rylen said after they had finished comfortably situating themselves. “He just always seems so -”

“Stuffy? Pretentious? Haughty?” Abby suggested, giggling at the look of surprise Rylen gave her. “No, not all the time. He works hard to present himself a certain way, but once you get to know him you can kind of understand why.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she paused to heave a sigh, chewing her lip as she thought. If they understood one another, though, how much easier would things go? It wasn’t giving out secrets so much as just offering insight. “His family is rich and powerful, in the Imperium. Long line of laetans, they’ve served in the government for years, that sort of thing. But uh - he’s a soparatus. Or rather, non-mage. In a noble family of powerful mages.”

“And of course, in the rest of Thedas that wouldn’t matter for shite,” Rylen pointed out, nodding as if he understood.

“Right,” Abby agreed. “His younger brother is a mage, and is kind of considered more clearly the - rightful heir. John’s spent his whole life striving to be perfect to make up for the circumstances of his birth, basically.”

“So then his first marriage was an attempt at that as well?”

“Yes, except that his wife wanted to focus on her career and not a family. It worked, in a way. John supported her, didn’t mind not having a family while he did the same. His parents were actually happy when he took up with me, since I’m a laetan by Tevinter standards as well,” Abby explained. “They didn’t mind the whole _affair_ bit, because I was a chance to still get some mage children to pass on the line. And maybe even more so, since his ex-wife just had magic in her blood, she wasn’t a mage herself.”

“But then,” Rylen began, but he trailed off.

“It made it - even more of a blow, when we found out,” Abby confessed, knowing what Rylen had wanted to ask. “I was so scared he’d leave me, even - even before everything happened with you.”

“You thought he’d leave?” Rylen asked, sounding almost surprised.

“He’d think he was doing what was best for me, leaving to give me a chance at a family,” Abby answered. She shook her head and then turned it, propping her chin on his chest so that she could look at him when she continued. “I think I’m the only person he’s ever really let in. When it comes to me, he - I don’t know how to phrase it. I’m his weakness, his - his everything, a chance to be vulnerable and be accepted. Just - as he is, no expectations.”

“I’m amazed he came to the conclusion about us that he did, if that’s the case,” Rylen mused. He idly began stroking her hair, combing his fingers through the strands as a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“It makes sense, when you think about it. He’d do anything for me - and I think he figured trying was better than not.” Abby lazily ran a finger along his chest, following the dark blue lines of his tattoo. “He has layers, I - I hope you two can keep getting closer. He’s fun, just - incredibly reserved around anyone but me.”

“Any pointers? I’d like to know him better. Which sounds odd to say since we’ve been in bed together.”

“You’ve both just been in bed with me, though, really,” Abby pointed out with a giggle. “Although I’ve noticed you winking at him. You making moves on my husband, Ry?”

He met the way she wiggled her eyebrows at him with several deep barks of laughter. “I won’t deny he’s an attractive man,” he admitted once he’d caught his breath again. “Not even just for his age, I’m sure he must have been when he was younger too.”

“Mmm remind me to show you pictures,” Abby suggested, giggling at the look he gave her. “What?”

“I suppose I’m surprised at the way you seem to be almost encouraging me to like him,” Rylen said after a moment. “I never even told you I...don't care which team I'm playing for, let's say.”

“It wasn’t hard to assume, considering how easily you agreed to being in bed with another man.” She reached up to trace the tattoo on his nose, smiling sweetly as she hoped to reassure him. “I just want everyone to get along, I mean - right now everything’s working, but who knows. The newness might wear off, though I’d - rather it didn’t. I want to keep you both in my life.”

“Well then how can I crack the surface of that pompous Vint shell?” Rylen asked, still smiling at her confession.

“Actually, there’s a few things you could ask him about that would probably help him open up a crack,” Abby began slowly, chewing her lip as she considered. “I mean just showing interest in what he’s doing always works well, he appreciates little efforts like that. Also he loves reading - and you’ll have to bring it up gingerly, but I have something you can talk about that will show you a whole new side of him.”

“What’s that?” Rylen quirked an eyebrow, as if curious about the mischievous grin she was giving him.

“ _Hard in Hightown_ ,” she told him, emphasizing her words and holding his gaze intently.

“The - the crime novels?” Rylen laughed, closing his eyes and reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “They’re awful, they’re -”

“They’re John’s favorite,” Abby interrupted, trying to get Rylen to pay attention to her words. “He geeks out about them, every time a new one is released, every time they hint that maybe they’ll do a movie. He’s read them so many times. When he found out I work with Varric Tethras at The Herald he was basically tripping over his words trying to hold back from asking me to get his autograph.”

“You can’t be serious,” Rylen said, staring at her with his brows furrowed. “John likes _Hard in Hightown_ that much? That man? The one who valets his car everywhere he goes and has dozens of different cufflinks so he doesn’t wear the same pair twice in a month?”

“He doesn’t have that many,” she defended, and then considered for a moment. “Oh wait maybe he does. I’ve made a bad habit of buying him new ones as gifts.”

“Exactly,” Rylen pointed out. “ _John_ reads and loves those pulp fiction, crappy, inaccurate -”

“He adores them,” Abby insisted, tapping Rylen on the chest to try to regain his attention when he started laughing. “Oh come on - it’s his little quirk, and it means a lot to him. So just - if you want to see the man I love and not the one who dictates which wine will go best with your meal or which suit and tie combination is best, then ask. Mention you saw them on our bookshelf and ask if he’s read them, and see what happens.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around that one.”

“Please be nice,” Abby implored him. “I lo - care about you both so much. I’d like for you to be friends, at least, as much as I may have teased you about thinking John’s attractive. Friends would be best for all of us.”

Rylen held her gaze for a moment, lips pursed as if he was considering. “All right, lass,” he assured her, nodding his head almost solemnly. “I agree, so far things are working well but it could just be the fact that it’s new. So I’ll try.”

“He will too, I know he will,” Abby added. “Thank you, Ry. I’m just happy and I guess maybe I’m a little scared it will - fall apart.”

With one swift movement Rylen rolled over, propping himself above Abby so that he could command her gaze. He smiled, brushing hair off her face before he cupped her jaw with a hand. “Lass, if I didn’t care for you as much as I do, I wouldn’t have even considered accepting your man’s proposal,” he told her, tone suddenly incredibly serious. “Having you in my life means everything to me, and I’ll do whatever I can to fight for that happiness. If that means talking about bad representations of police work in literature with your husband, I’ll do it. It’s a small price to pay for having you.”

“Ry…”

But no other words came to her, except the ones she wasn’t certain she should involve in this yet. Instead she looped an arm around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him with urgency she hoped told him how his words had made her feel.

 

* * *

 

The week had been long, and though he’d spent two of his nights at the penthouse, by the time Friday evening was upon him he couldn’t wait to be back there. Work had dragged on the whole week, mostly dealing with paperwork, and with nothing to look forward to in the evenings time had seemed to pass more slowly than ever.

His surprise at finding himself back in the Fade the two nights he hadn’t been with her physically was frequently on his mind, distracting him from his work. He still couldn’t understand the how, but at this point he wasn’t certain he cared to answer it so much. Being apart from Abigail wasn’t so terrible if he still saw her in the Fade, and he was incredibly grateful that so far that had been the case. Even if all he did was held her and talked with her, it was enough.

His phone buzzed as he pulled into a parking space beside the liquor store he was stopping at along the way, and he checked it once he’d turned his car off.

 

 _Rutherford (sent 6:14pm):_ You raced out the door today.

 _Rutherford (sent 6:14pm):_ Guess you have plans? I meant to ask you to grab a beer, it’s been a while since we have.

 

Rylen shook his head, heaving a slight sigh as he replied.

 

_Can’t m8. Got a hawt date._

_Rutherford (sent 6:15pm):_ Really? I didn’t know you’d started seeing someone,

 

Rylen smirked, knowing that even if he tried to explain to the other man he wasn’t certain he’d fully understand. So instead, he decided to do what he loved best; irritate his partner with juvenile texts.

 

_Been 2 busy 2 tell u_

_U no, busy?_

👅🍆💦

👅🍯👅🍑💦

🍆🍯💦

🤤😴

🛁🛏💤💤

 _Rutherford (sent 6:16pm):_ Maker’s breath, Rylen.

_2 much information?_

_Rutherford (sent 6:16pm):_ A simple “sorry I have a date” would have sufficed.

_Where’s da fun in dat m8?_

_Figured I’d send u sum ideas fer yer lass, that’s all._

👅🍯👅🍑💦💦

🍆🍑💦

_Try those she mite like u better_

_Rutherford (sent 6:17pm):_ Maker I hate you.

 _Rutherford (sent 6:17pm):_ And Solona likes me just fine as is, for your information.

_I just said she mite like u better. Didn’t say she didn’t already._

👅🍑 _trust me_

 _Rutherford (sent 6:17pm):_ I’ve told you before I can’t trust anyone who texts like an idiot.

_Yer loss, m8._

**Read 6:18pm.**

 

Laughing to himself he opened a different thread, rereading the group text from earlier as he debated what to do.

 

 _John (sent 3:47pm):_ My meeting with that client was postponed to next week, so I should be home in time for dinner.

 _Abigail (sent 3:49pm):_ Yaaaaaay handsome! Ry you’re still coming after work, right?

_Aye, I packed a bag this morning so won’t even have to stop by my apartment. Hopefully will get off at the usual time, if I’m lucky._

_Abigail (sent 3:53pm):_ 🤞🏻here's hoping! I'll order something for us? You’re staying the whole weekend, right?

_Aye, just as I promised._

_John (sent 4:01pm):_ Did you want me to make reservations for tomorrow night?

 _Abigail (sent 4:02pm):_ Ooooo yes please! Movie night tonight, date night tomorrow?

_Sounds good to me, lass. Can I grab anything for tonight?_

_John (sent 4:04pm):_ I think we’re low on wine, if you’d like to grab some.

_Haha are you sure you trust me to grab a bottle? What if it’s under 20 quid? The travesty! The shame!_

_Abigail (sent 4:05pm):_ I think I’m just going to get pizza from that little Antivan place around the corner for dinner, so how about a red? I trust you 😘

_Famous last words, lass._

_John (sent 4:07pm):_ Ha! He’s got you there, gorgeous.

 _Abigail (sent 4:08pm):_ Sorry I can’t hear you over the sound of how much you both want my 🍯

_She’s onto us, mate._

_John (sent 4:10pm):_ Agreed. We must have been too obvious.

_Maybe if we’re nice she’ll send a picture…_

_Abigail (sent 4:10pm):_ You two are so funny. I’m swamped at work, stop distracting me.

_Distracting? Us? We would never...🍆🍆_

_John (sent 4:13pm):_ So...is that a no?

 

Whether or not Abigail actually had been busy or had been teasing them back by ignoring them, Rylen wasn't certain because the conversation had ended there. He considered for a moment, wondering if he should ask their wine preference beyond simply _red._ As much as he wanted to pick something they would like, he also didn’t want to appear like a total idiot by asking for help.

Luckily the store wasn’t busy, and he asked the owner for advice, deciding to also grab a twelve pack of beer to take with him. After all, pizza and beer was an excellent combination, and perhaps John would meet him halfway and have a beer with him. He still remembered Abigail’s request in the Fade, and he was determined to continue trying to get to know John.

The whole drive to the penthouse he thought over what needed to be discussed, the few issues they had realized they needed to bring up with John. Finding one another again in the Fade had been something they strangely hadn’t talked about, and Rylen realized they must have thought perhaps they no longer would. If that was the case, what was the point in talking about the possibility? And though he was nervous to do it, he almost felt as if he needed to confess to his jealousy about the nights he wasn’t with them.

Honesty - that’s what they had agreed upon, what they knew was needed to make this work. Abigail was worried the shine would wear off as if their only concern was losing interest, but Rylen knew it was more likely to fall apart because of deeper issues - likely stemming from jealousy. Confessing to it and talking it through was the only way to nip that in the bud. The prospect of doing so, however, was less than appealing.

He pulled into the parking garage and the second spot for the penthouse, just as he had the nights before when he had stayed. Already it felt natural, as if that spot really was meant for him. Grabbing his bag from the backseat, he slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the elevators. He’d already memorized the code by now, and pressed the button to the penthouse, eager excitement flooding him. Abigail was almost certain to be home, but if she wasn’t they’d directed him to where they kept a spare key and told him to make himself at home.

He had hardly knocked on the door before it opened, and Abigail smiled brightly when she saw him. His own lips parted in a smile for the briefest moment, and then she was in his arms, kissing him and giggling as she jumped up. He caught her and straightened, eagerly kissing her as he walked through the door and kicked it closed behind him.

“How was your day?” she asked breathlessly against his lips.

“It’s infinitely improved now, lass,” he told her. Strolling forward, he tightened the arm he held around her waist so that he could set his bags down beside the island counter in the kitchen. Once he had he adjusted how he held her, both hands moving to cup and squeeze her rear through the skirt she wore. “How was yours?”

“Fine, just busy. Maker, I’m so glad it’s the weekend,” she purred, and leaned forward again to kiss him.

For several long moments they simply lost themselves in their passion, until he managed to pull himself away. “Is John home already?”

“No, but he should be on his way,” she answered, and she let out a soft sigh as if resigning herself to waiting. “Are you hungry?”

“Not yet, I can wait if you’re not ready to order. But maybe a bit thirsty?”

Abigail smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to him before she finally let her legs slide down his body so he could set her on her feet once more. “What can I get you?”

“I grabbed some beer, do you have room in the fridge?” he asked as he reached for the paper bag.

"Of course," she answered, waving a hand in the direction of the fridge. "Wherever it fits."

"I got wine too, but I like beer with pizza, especially after a long day of work," he explained as he placed the pack in the fridge. He cracked open the can he grabbed for himself, taking a gulp before he turned to where she was pulling out the two bottles of wine he'd brought. "Are those all right, lass?"

"Perfect, thank you for getting them," she said. "We still had some from a bottle we opened last night so I'm finishing that off. Want to watch something while we wait for John?"

Rylen nodded and followed her to the living room, slipping off his shoes before he took a seat beside her. He rested his arm on the back of the sofa, settling in as she curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. Just as she reached for her glass of wine on the table her phone began to ring, the name ‘Handsome Man’ and a picture of John reclining on a pillow and smirking at the camera taking up the screen.

She quickly answered, smiling as she leaned back with her wine and settled into Rylen's arms once more. "Hey handsome! You on your way?"

"I am, traffic is atrocious. I think there's an accident," Rylen could hear John's deep voice say, slightly raised as if he was using speaker phone. "Do I need to get anything?"

"Nope, just get home safe. Rylen just got here and we'll order dinner once you're home."

"All right. Sorry I'm running late, but I'll be home as soon as I can."

"No worries! See you soon, love you."

"Love you too, gorgeous."

Abigail hung up the phone and set it aside, curling up her legs to settle more intimately against Rylen.

For a moment he considered his beer, trying to work through the tangle of thoughts the call had brought on. He couldn't quite decipher what he was feeling, but suddenly he chuckled.

"What?" She asked, glancing up at him.

"So, you always call him Handsome?"

She smiled, almost a little sheepishly, but she nodded. "I always have, it just sort of - became how I address him."

He nodded slowly, musing over it as he took a gulp of cold beer. "I suppose calling him 'baby' would be a little odd."

At this Abigail snorted, taking a sip as she nodded agreement. "It doesn't really fit us."

"What fits us?" he asked, and his heart raced a little as he realized just why the phone call had piqued his interest so much.

She was silent, contemplating where she swirled the red wine in the balloon glass she held. "Well, I'm your lass, aren't I?" She met his eyes briefly, smiling when he did. "And you're my _amatus_."

"Amatus? What's that mean, Abigail?" He watched her take another sip of wine and idly he brushed hair off her shoulder as he waited for her to explain it.

"It's Tevene, it means...it's hard to give it an exact definition in Common. I guess the closest is 'dearest' or, um…'beloved.'" When she finished she stared at her glass for a few seconds more, and then chanced a peek up at him.

He greeted her with a smile, the confirmation of her feelings for him causing him to feel full, near to bursting with his own. "Aye, you're my lass, and I'm your amatus."

She giggled as if relieved, tilting her head to beg for a kiss. He obliged, slowly moving his lips against hers as if to seal their words with the action.

They settled back on the sofa, flipping channels and talking about their days. Thorough contentment overcame him as they sat merely enjoying one another's company.

When the sound of a key unlocking the door finally sounded, Abigail set her wine aside and pushed herself to her feet. John strode in, black trench coat thrown over the arm in which he carried his leather briefcase. He glanced up as he closed the door once more, and Abigail hurried over to greet him.

"Hello handsome," she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

He stooped so that she could reach, pressing a few brief kisses to her before he wrapped an arm around her waist, swaying slightly as he kissed her more deeply. "Hello Kitten," he said, and he slid his hand down to squeeze her rear.

"How was work?" She asked him, and she slid her hands to the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Incredibly busy, I'm glad to be home."

She giggled and finally released him to allow him to set his things down. "Seems to be a trend today," she commented with a smile.

"Is that so?" He turned from where he had hung his coat and set his briefcase down, undoing the buttons of his jacket so he could remove it as well. As he did his eyes moved to where Rylen sat on the sofa and he gave a smile. "Rylen, good to see you," he greeted.

"Likewise, mate. There's two bottles of wine on the counter or I grabbed some local beer and put it in the fridge if you'd like," Rylen told him.

John walked into the kitchen, putting his jacket over the back of one of the barstools. He seemed to be considering, rolling his sleeves up as he did.

"I'll get you some wine unless you'd like some Mackay's," Abigail offered.

But John shook his head finally and opened the door of the fridge. "No thank you, gorgeous. I think I'll take him up on that beer."

Abigail turned from the kitchen, raising her eyebrows at Rylen before she winked and smiled at him. He grinned as well, feeling a small bit of hope at what seemed to be a concession from the other man.

Drinks acquired, Abigail resumed her seat beside Rylen, John taking his close on her other side. They took a moment to settle in, John taking the hand she offered him as Rylen stretched his arm behind her shoulders once more.

"So, Rylen, how was the rest of your week?" John glanced over Abigail's head at him, offering a friendly, inquisitive stare.

"Just a lot of blasted paperwork," Rylen answered with a shrug. "They never really talk about how unglamorous most of detective work is. I'm glad to be back here, it was a long few days."

"We're glad to have you," John replied with an easy smile. "Should be a good weekend, just a chance to relax, back together again."

Abigail chewed her lip and glanced at Rylen. "Oh, um...that reminds me…"

John looked down at her, raising an eyebrow with simple curiosity. "Something up?"

"So, I wanted to wait until all three of us could discuss it, together. The past two nights Ry and I, um, found our way back to one another in the Fade." Abigail fidgeted for a moment with her glass before she looked between the two on either side of her.

“Ah, I - see.” John frowned slightly, taking a long gulp of his beer. “You’re right, I suppose we hadn’t, uh - talked about that possibility, had we…”

“No, since it hadn’t happened since - since this actually started,” Abigail agreed.

“We didn’t do anything, mate - after all you weren’t there,” Rylen hurried to assure him.

To his surprise John chuckled and shot him a smirk. “I appreciate that, you’re right that I would want to be involved in that decision. But you don’t need to sound so guilty, I - actually trust you both.”

“Well, I - I just wanted to be sure we talked with you about it. I still don’t understand it,” Abigail added, frowning down at where she held John’s hand. “But the two nights we were apart, we - we did, we ended up in the Fade together again.”

John hummed thoughtfully, again taking a long drink from the can he held. When he didn’t say anything, Rylen cleared his throat.

“Listen, mate, I understand if you - if you’d rather we refrained. We’re adults, we can keep our hands off each other, even though…” But when it came to being honest about his own feelings, he fell silent as well.

“Please, Rylen, continue,” John encouraged, and he gave a thoughtful nod of his head.

“I’ll admit to...jealousy, the nights that I’m not here. You two are married, I feel no right to dictate what you do the nights that you’re alone, but then again…” Rylen trailed off, trying to think how to phrase it without sounding quite so selfish or immature.

“Then again we agreed to all be equal partners in this,” Abigail softly finished for him.

“Those are both fair points,” John conceded, and he ran his finger along the aluminum rim of his beercan. After several moments spent considering, he pursed his lips and sighed. “The way I see it, the nights we’re apart - yes, if Abby and I want to have sex, we will. But I can’t quite see the Fade as being the same as - anything happening in reality. I can’t fully explain it, perhaps because of how this all started, but I’m - I’m not bothered if you two spend time together in the Fade as you once did.”

“Really?” Rylen prompted before he could stop himself, thoroughly surprised by how quickly John had reasoned it out.

“Well, it’s already happened like that before, and as we came to realize it didn’t - change things. I suppose if anything changes, if anything major occurs, I’d like to - be told. But otherwise that’s fine, it would be a double standard for us to have nights alone and you two can’t, in dreams.” John met Rylen’s gaze and gave a curt nod before he smiled at Abigail.

“Thank you, handsome,” Abigail told him, straining up to give him a kiss. “And you’re really all right with it? I don’t want you to just agree because you feel you have to.”

“I’m fine with it, really. You know, knowing that you two found one another again, I just - well, Rylen was honest, I should be as well,” John muttered. He let out a sigh, still staring at where he ran his finger along the can’s rim. “I don’t understand the connection you two have, and honestly I suppose - I’m jealous of it. Clearly you two are sharing something that I can’t, and I - I almost wish I could.”

“Oh handsome,” Abigail sighed, and she turned to cup his cheek and press a kiss to him. “You know how much I love you, how much you mean to me -”

“Yes, I do, Abby,” he assured her, squeezing her thigh. “I know it doesn’t detract from that, but still, I - I can’t help but feel as if...I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“As if you’re missing out,” Rylen suggested, and they locked eyes over Abigail’s head once more. “Aye, mate, I understand perfectly. It’s how I feel thinking about you two enjoying even simple evenings together without me.”

John nodded, and then chuckled, as if exasperated at himself. “It’s just hard having to admit to being so - human about this all. I want to act like I’m fine, but this is still - strange, and fragile.”

“It is,” Abigail agreed in a whisper. “If - if it makes you both feel better or - I don’t know, perhaps it will make you both feel worse, I’m not sure, but...I love our nights together the best. It makes me feel so selfish, and like you’ll think either of you isn’t enough on your own but - well...” She took a deep breath, fidgeting as her cheeks pinkened and she pressed her lips together. Finally she gulped and continued. “I do, I - I love the nights when I have both of you most of all, because I feel for you both just - so intensely. I know that’s not always possible, though, I just...if we’re confessing...this last week has been - amazing for me.”

Rylen chuckled, unable to help himself, and after a moment John joined in. Abigail looked between them as if worried, but when Rylen winked at her she relaxed into a smile. He squeezed the arm he still had around her shoulders, continuing to laugh as he tugged her against him.

“Is that so, lass?” he teased, nuzzling her forehead with his nose before he brushed his lips against her hair. Glancing at John he noticed him quirk an eyebrow, smirking as he gave a wink of acknowledgment.

John slid his hand up Abigail’s thigh, under the hem of her skirt. A soft gasp greeted their sudden attentions, and she rested her head back against Rylen’s shoulder once more.

“What’s this?” John asked suddenly, and he lifted her skirt so that he could peek under it. He glanced up at Rylen, raising his eyebrows in a brief shrug before he returned his gaze to Abigail. “Who’s a naughty little Kitten, not wearing anything under her skirt?”

“Mmm, really?” Rylen asked, and he reached to lift her skirt higher so that he could see as well. Abigail was bare, and scooted slightly so that they could both see.

As if she was tempting them.

John set aside his beer on the coffee table before he took Abigail’s wine to do the same, and Rylen followed suit. As they both loosened their ties and smirked at one another, Abigail let out a soft sigh and slid slightly to the side, leaning into Rylen.

Once he had removed his tie, John gripped her thighs and pulled her toward him, encouraging her back onto the sofa, her head in Rylen’s lap. Rylen finished making himself comfortable and reached a hand to one of her thighs, pulling it aside so that she was spread for John.

“What a greedy Kitten, you’re already naked and wet,” John purred as he leaned over her. He rubbed two fingers on her smooth skin, fully exposing her for him. “You say you like it better like this? So greedy,” he slid his tongue along her, slowly, “but I wonder if you can keep up with us.”

Rylen chuckled as he watched John lick her a few more times, and he took in the cries she let out, her head lolling where it rested on his legs. He was hard, his slacks tight, and he rested one arm on the sofa while reaching with his other for her chin. Turning her face so that she had to look up at him, he held it in place while he looked between her and where John was still working between her legs.

“Look at me, lass,” he commanded softly. She opened her eyes lazily, but when she met his gaze she pouted and almost seemed to be trying to encourage him down to her. “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” she gasped, writhing slightly. “Yes, yes - please.”

At the word John pulled away, looking up and watching her face.

“What was that, lass?”

“Please, please,” she mewled, and she tried to tighten her legs around where John rested, only to be stopped by both of them, each with a hand on a thigh.

“Already, Kitten?” John teased, running his finger along her, everywhere but the spot she likely wanted it most of all.

“Handsome - amatus - please, please,” she begged.

John glanced at Rylen, smirking before he shook his head. Rylen nodded and reached to his belt buckle, undoing it so that he could release his straining erection.

“Be a good lass,” he purred, and he let out a groan as she immediately turned her face toward him once she realized what he had done. The eagerness with which she parted her lips and took him into her mouth made his head spin, and he had to work quickly to collect himself.

When John returned his attention to her with a purr of, “good girl,” she moaned around Rylen’s length and sped up how she took him in and out of her mouth. It was hardly any time at all before she came undone, her whole body shuddering as she sucked desperately at his tip, and he leaned his head back with a groan.

But her lips were pulled away from him and he looked to the side, watching as John rolled her over and situated her on her knees on the sofa. “Keep going, Kitten,” he instructed her as he slid himself within her in one even snap of his hips.

She cried out, meeting Rylen’s gaze and smiling breathlessly, gasping and panting in response to the quick pace John had taken up. Rylen leaned forward, tangling a hand into her hair as he twisted his lips against hers for a few moments. When he pulled away he smirked, quirking an eyebrow as he commanded her gaze with his.

“You heard him, lass,” he murmured, and Abigail moaned as she eagerly lowered her head to take him between her lips once more.

Rylen closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he enjoyed the sound of John’s thrusts and the feeling of Abigail taking him further into her mouth with each one. She had been the one to confess it, the one to give voice to the thought, but the more he thought about it, the more he agreed.

The times they were all together were the times he looked forward to the most as well.


	8. Concessions

"I notice quite a change in both of you, and your attitudes, even just as we sit down," Wynne remarked.

Abby giggled beside him, settling back into the sofa. He hadn't thought much of it, but he realized now they were sitting close to one another. His arm rested casually on the sofa behind her, hand hanging beside her shoulder, fingers gently brushing the silk of her blouse. Before they had sat side by side, yet separate, stiff and weary, weighed down by their problems.

But Abby looked as relaxed as he was now, legs crossed toward him, the side of her bouncing foot occasionally rubbing against his shin.

"It's been a while since we last saw one another," Wynne continued when neither of them said anything. "Several cancelled appointments had me worried things had gotten worse -"

"Sorry," Abby interjected with a hint of a smirk that made John wonder if he was the only one who saw it. "We've been - busy."

"Busy doing what?" Wynne asked expectantly.

"Busy taking your advice," John answered.

"I give a lot of advice, you'll have to be more specific," came the slightly teasing response.

"We - started seeing Rylen," Abby said, as if using the simplest terms she could think of.

Only a moment of silence passed before Wynne raised an eyebrow with what seemed to be pleasant surprise. "Together?"

"Ah, yes," John told her, nodding further confirmation when she met his gaze. "I took what you'd said to heart and asked Rylen to dinner. I decided trying was better than not, as you pointed out."

"And are you still seeing Rylen?"

"Yes," Abby answered with a sweet smile though she blushed.

John wondered if she was thinking of that morning as well, of the caresses her lovers had used to wake her instead of going for their morning jog. He looked away from her, savoring the tempting memories but trying to refocus on their therapist's voice.

" - affected your marriage, and the problems you had been facing?" Wynne was asking.

John tightened his arm around Abby's shoulders, and she gently laid her hand on his knee, diamond rings glittering in the warm lamplight. "I - honestly haven't thought of them in a while," John confessed as he looked at Abby beside him.

"I - feel like we've found our way back to one another," Abby added. "I'm not sure how to explain, but - it feels like it did in the beginning. How we were before we started trying to start a family, just - happy, in - in sync, I guess."

"Do you agree, John? I know you had reservations. That you thought perhaps your marriage was coming to an end."

On his knee Abby tightened her fingers, gently reassuring him. He reached his left hand and placed it on top of hers, tenderly tracing her skin with his thumb. "I'll admit I still worried about that when we decided to try this, but," he paused, trying to think how to phrase how he felt. "I was nervous, when we made this choice. I was handing Abby the perfect opportunity to choose to leave, if that was what she wanted. I knew it came with the risk, but I wanted to try, wanted to see if giving her what she wanted, what she needed would...help, I suppose?"

"Help what?" Wynne prompted, making a quick note.

John considered, trying to find the words to explain. "I want to say help her, or help us, but perhaps I really mean - help me," he confessed. "It's strange but I'd been struggling to give Abby what she wanted, which is my greatest pride, and joy, I suppose. Taking this leap of faith, I - I was trying to resume my place as the loving husband who gave her what she wanted."

"John," Abby murmured, and again she squeezed his knee.

"It's true," he reiterated. "What's interesting is that I didn't realize it would give me what I wanted and needed."

Wynne smiled, as if she knew what his answer would be before she asked, yet she was going to anyway. "What did you need?"

"Security," John answered, glancing aside at Abby. She was watching him intently, a soft frown on her face. "I didn't expect it, but I feel - secure. More so than I thought I would, or could."

"Were you still worried I'd leave you, Handsome?" Abby asked quietly, and she turned her hand in his to hold it.

"Yes," he admitted. "But instead, it was as if you clung more tightly to me, to us, even as we accepted another man into our life."

"And what has helped you feel more secure in your marriage?" Wynne prompted him once more.

"We've had to learn to communicate even more than we did before, about everything. Perhaps we had been missing that. Now, though, we can't avoid talking through every aspect of our relationships," John explained. "It's taken effort on all our parts, and we've actually been making that effort. And...well…"

He paused again, struggling as he sometimes did when he had to confess something so honestly. The vulnerability unnerved him, though he was adjusting to it with practice, of which he'd had plenty in the past two and a half months since they had begun to see Rylen.

After offering Abby a smile, he took a deep breath and accepted his vulnerability, feeling confident that she would as well. "I don't feel excluded," he admitted. "I worried I would, that perhaps one of us would be the odd man out and it would be me. Especially considering the issues we had had before, I almost expected to feel unbalanced and left out. Instead the transition, the new relationships, have - strengthened our bond. I knew I was giving her what she needed, I never expected I would get what I needed as well."

"I'm pleased to hear you were willing to take that risk," Wynne told them after a moment spent scribbling on her pad. "I can't imagine it fixed every problem you had, but hearing that you both feel closer, stronger together is a good sign. If you keep up that communication I can only imagine that will continue to improve."

"I agree," Abby murmured, nodding.

"And this Rylen, is he aware of the issues you had faced, is he also putting forth effort?"

"Yes," Abby and John both answered. John chuckled, but Abby continued. "It's been a learning curve for all of us, but - he tries just as much as we do. We constantly talk about boundaries, how we're feeling, it's - it's been wonderful."

"I'm glad to hear he understands the need for that as well," Wynne said. "Now, this was only one of the issues, one facet of your relationship. It seems to be going well, but we first started seeing one another to talk through the shock of infertility. How are you both feeling about that?"

A few moments of silence greeted the question, John tightening his hand on Abby's where it rested on his knee, Abby adjusting how she sat. Finally she glanced his way and offered an encouraging smile.

"I'm - um, content, I suppose," Abby began slowly. "I wanted us to - readjust, after we got the news. I wanted to take a break, and just - be, together, before we dealt with it. And now, we've found our way back to one another. That's what I wanted."

John smiled to himself, listening to how happy his wife sounded, how different it was from months before.

"For now, just exploring this new dynamic, falling in love again - um…" Abby trailed off, chewing her lip as she thought, cheeks pinkening slightly once more. "Falling back in love, just - as we were. And the newness with Rylen, I'm - I'm not thinking about how we were struggling. Maybe once we've figured this all out…"

She trailed off, letting the unspoken words hang in the silence of the small room. John found he was still smiling, realizing what she hadn't confessed, and finding that he felt the same. Not now, certainly not now while things were still complicated, but maybe in the future. Although he realized he didn't know how things would settle. They were seeing Rylen now, yes - but he realized he couldn't foresee how that would turn out. Would it continue, and if so - what would that look like? Or would it end, and if so - where would _that_ leave them?

"There's no rush," Wynne finally spoke into the quiet contemplation Abby's words had inspired. "For now, focusing on your marriage, this new dynamic you're establishing and exploring is the right course. You both seem more at peace, and to use a word you did, John, more secure. It's pleasing to see."

The rest of the session passed easily, explaining more of their dynamic with Rylen, discussing boundaries and how they were all handling the openness the situation essentially forced them into. Wynne listened attentively, and at the end suggested that from now on they schedule sessions as needed, since they seemed to be doing well at the moment.

As they left, John put an arm around Abby, pulling her close to his side almost possessively. Her arm wrapped around his waist, securing her more intimately as they fell into step with one another. It was easy, relaxed and comfortable as it had always been - as it had once been. The return to such casual intimacy warmed his soul, the way that her presence and acceptance of him always had.

Once they reached the car she stopped and turned in his arms, smiling up at him. There was a sparkle in her dark eyes, a familiar gleam that excited him. With a glance around he saw the parking lot deserted, and pushed her back against the door of his SUV.

"Can I give you a lift, Kitten?" he murmured, pressing his hips to her.

"I - I was going to walk," she answered, and he was surprised to hear how breathless she sounded, clearly affected by how he had pinned her to the car.

"That's a shame. Busy day at work?" He kept his voice low, a smooth purr, and eagerly watched her face.

Abby's fingers tightened where they held his lapels, and her lips parted slightly as she looked up at him. Memories of years before came back to him, tantalizing recollections of stolen moments such as this one. Hurried caresses, desperate kisses, hidden trysts when they couldn't wait any longer. The way he would simply push aside her clothing to take her, hard and fast while she whimpered in response to the filthy things he whispered as his practiced touch drove her wild.

It had been over a year since he'd felt that same invigorating longing, the desperation they had given in to during their affair. Perhaps it should have been strange to him that it came on the back of memories of sharing her in bed with her lover, but it wasn't. Instead even that made him more excited, and he rubbed where he was hardening against her with more intention.

"H-Handsome," Abby gasped, and she looked around the parking lot, eyes wide.

But he gripped her chin with one hand, tilting her face up so that he could look at her and enjoy the way her eyes were darkened with lust. "I suppose if I can't enjoy you now, Kitten, I'll just have to save all my ideas for later. When Rylen comes over."

"Oh?" she murmured, but it came out as a soft moan.

With a furtive glance around he found they were still alone, and slowly slid his other hand down to her rear, squeezing as he gripped her chin more firmly. "You're wet thinking about it, aren't you?" For emphasis he slipped his hand down the curve of one buttock so he could feel the heat between her legs. "Needy little Kitten. How many times did you come this morning? And your tight little pussy is begging for more already. I'll have to be sure to tell him, let him know how desperate you'll be to spread yourself for us."

"Fuck," she gasped. "Maker - Handsome touch me, please. Let's fuck in the car, or let me suck you off -"

He grinned wickedly, finally having gotten her where he wanted her. Leaning forward he brushed his lips to hers, his fingers between her legs rubbing for just a moment - and then he stepped back, releasing her completely. "No," he told her firmly.

An almost strangled sound slipped from her throat and she clenched her eyes shut. "Please -"

"I said no, Kitten," he instructed. "And I mean it. You can't come until I tell you, so don't touch yourself either. I need you to be a begging, desperate mess for us tonight. Understood?"

Eagerly she nodded, holding his gaze with eyes almost completely dilated with desire. "Yes, Handsome," she finally conceded to him, and he took pleasure in how strained her voice sounded.

He smirked and leaned forward to press a delicate, chaste kiss to her forehead. "Good girl," he whispered.

After a moment spent collecting herself, Abby ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "When - when do you leave town again?"

"Next week," he told her. The idea he'd been musing on came back to him, and he finally made up his mind on it. "But don't worry, Kitten, I think I have an idea to keep you from getting too lonely."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't ask, as if she knew he wouldn't explain anyway. With a few absent nods of her head she looked around, and then gave him a wide smile. "I'll - I'll see you after work then?"

"Yes you will, Gorgeous," he assured her, and as he got into the driver's seat he winked. Abby watched him leave the parking lot before she turned to head in the direction of The Herald.

As he began his drive he looked at his watch, and realized he had enough time for lunch before his afternoon meeting. Giving a voice command to his phone, he waited as the line rang a few times before it was answered.

"Eh, mate," Rylen greeted.

"Rylen, I take it I'm not interrupting?"

"No, just paperwork," came the answer.

"Have you had lunch yet? I have a meeting this afternoon and it's near the precinct, thought maybe we could have lunch together beforehand."

A moment passed and then Rylen hummed as if thinking. "Aye, I could do that," he agreed. "There's not much around here besides a pub, but if that works for you?"

"Yes, that works," John told him.

"I'll text you the cross streets. See you in fifteen?"

"See you then."

John hung up and a moment later the address was texted to him. He easily navigated to the pub and found parking on the street, spotting Rylen's blue SUV in a nearby space.

The pub seemed a mix between a sports bar and a dive, with framed pictures and memorabilia for the Kirkwall PD decorating the walls. The few patrons within glanced up and gave him scathing glares before returning to their drinks.

Clearing his throat, he spotted Rylen waving him over, and as he crossed to the booth he shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

After their comfortable greeting the waitress stopped beside them, and Rylen ordered a local beer, only to raise an eyebrow when John did as well.

"Sorry to make you slum it," Rylen teased as the waitress walked off.

John chuckled and shook his head. "No apology necessary."

Rylen smirked, nodding acquiescence. "You two had your appointment this morning, aye?"

"Yes, we did. It went well," John told him. They settled back in the curved booth, and John found it interesting the way they both sat in the corners, close instead of across from one another.

"Glad to hear it," Rylen said, offering a smile. He didn't press for any information though, seeming to respect it was likely something only between John and Abby.

"Actually we talked about you most of the time," John informed him casually, thinking it only fair that he be included since he had, in a way, been a part of the session.

"Oh? And what was the professional opinion on our little arrangement?"

"Approval at the way we're handling it." John saw the waitress coming back with their drinks and leaned back from how he'd rested his elbows on the table.

Once they had their drinks and had placed their orders for burgers, John took a gulp of beer as he considered how to broach the subject he wanted to.

"So just killing time today before your meeting?" Rylen prompted as he wiped foam left by his beer from his full upper lip.

With a chuckle John shrugged. "Yes, thought lunch would be nice, since I know Abby appreciates us spending time together. But -"

"Ah, there it is," Rylen interrupted with a bark of laughter. "Figured there was a but in here somewhere."

"Likely not the one you think," John assured him, winking when Rylen glanced his way. "I'm leaving town next weekend for a trip to Tevinter, meeting clients and handling some work for that branch of the firm. I'll be gone for about a week and a half."

"Aye I thought I remembered you mentioning a trip coming up," Rylen said. He drained more of his beer as he waited for John to make his point.

"I'd like to make a request of you."

"Not doing anything outside the Fade while you're gone?" Rylen guessed.

"The opposite," John corrected. "I find I would actually feel better if you stayed with her while I'm gone."

"Really?" Rylen blurted out, in the blunt way he usually did when John relaxed the terms of his agreement to this arrangement.

Unable to resist, John laughed at the pleasant surprise on the other man's face. "I feel by now if you two were inclined to run off together, you would have. Instead we all keep seeming to find ourselves seeking more and more time together."

"Aye," Rylen agreed thoughtfully. "So you'd like me to keep her company? Am I allowed to…?"

"I encourage you to," John insisted, giving another wink. "And if we have the time, all of us, I'd like to be included."

Rylen held his gaze for a moment and then chuckled, shaking his head as he took another gulp of beer. "That could be fun. Are there rules?"

John considered, mulling it over as he sipped at his drink. "No, nothing like you mean."

"I suppose I should be more specific," Rylen mused. "From what I understand you're giving us free rein to be together in your absence, and occasionally include you, aye?"

At John's nod Rylen considered before continuing. "I've noticed you two seem to - set rules, in bed, sometimes. Do you have any for me to follow?"

John raised an eyebrow, holding the other man's gaze. "Ah, I - hmm," he hummed for a moment as he considered. "Perhaps if we...video chat, we could come up with something in the moment. But so long as I'm included somehow a few times while I'm out of town, I'll be happy."

Rylen nodded and took a drink before he set his glass aside. "Can I ask about that?"

John smirked but found he didn't know how to begin explaining. Rylen seemed to realize he needed to be more specific again, and he cleared his throat.

"Is it as it appears? A dom and sub kind of relationship?"

John inclined his head slowly. "Yes, it - it started early on in our affair. Abby enjoys giving up control, and I enjoy being in control. It's usually that simple - I give instructions and she follows them. In the world of kink it's likely still - _relatively_ tame."

Rylen watched him thoughtfully for a moment. "I assume there are times more intense than the ones I've seen?"

"Ah - yes, yes there are," John admitted. He realized it had been since they had tried playing to reconnect, before he had known about her dreams with Rylen.

"Am I - depriving you of those times? I'm not saying I have to be included, if she's submissive to you and you prefer -"

"There's no reason you couldn't be involved, but we'd have to reassess the dynamics, what role we'd all play," John pointed out. He tilted his pint glass, considering the amber liquid within as he mused over the possibilities.

"I've dabbled, and honestly - either role suits me just fine," Rylen told him. "I have things I won't do - I'm certainly not interested in humiliation. I hope that's not a problem."

John smirked and shook his head. "Not at all," he assured the other man. "I'm almost positive you've noticed Abby's penchant for being praised."

A gleam came into Rylen's eyes. "Aye, more than once just the words 'good girl' from you have made her come so hard around me I had to do my best not to lose myself as well."

A shared moment of quiet laughter and glances passed, a strange camaraderie between them at the memories they were likely both recalling.

"No, humiliation isn't in our repertoire," John continued once more. "Besides commands it's more like - some light bondage, tying her up while I tease and deny her. As I said, for kink it's rather vanilla."

"Well, I wouldn't want to intrude on something between you two," Rylen began slowly, as if making certain he wasn't crossing a boundary.

But the idea of including Rylen, of watching Abby submit to both of them, of remembering the times he felt he didn't have enough ways to tease her on his own. It was more than a little tempting.

"Of course, Abby would have to agree, and we'd have to talk through boundaries and rules again, but," John shrugged as if nonchalant though he was having to bury the excitement he felt at the prospect. "I'm more than willing to try with all three of us."

Rylen smiled, but before he could reply their lunches were brought by the waitress. They settled in to their food, eating for a few moments in contented silence before a thought came to John.

"I'll leave some cash for you both while I'm gone," he began, but with a glance at Rylen he saw the other man scowling.

"Not necessary," Rylen insisted. His voice was suddenly gruff, expression darkened as he bit off part of a long chip as if he bore it great animosity.

It took John only a moment to realize he had offended the other man, though that hadn't been his intention. He had meant it as a show almost of affection, trust and friendship - he wouldn't be there to offset costs, and meant only to provide for them both as he always tried to do. Realizing he had crossed some unspoken boundary between them, he nodded and quietly acquiesced to Rylen's glare of admonition.

The moment passed, and soon they relaxed back into their usual friendly banter. They spoke about work and their days, and after some time the flare of awkwardness between them faded. John also made good on his promise to Abby that he would tell Rylen how easily he had been able to excite her and make her beg him. The gleam that came into Rylen's eyes mirrored the same desire John felt, and his anticipation for that evening grew even more.

When they requested their checks and conceded that it was time to get back to work, John allowed Rylen to insist on paying separately. It went against his nature, and as they passed over their cards he wondered at the way he found himself so eager to make such small efforts to take care of the other man.


	9. Yours & Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: There is some possessive sex and anal play starting this chapter. It's all been tagged leading up to this but just a second heads up now that it's starting to check the tags.
> 
> Xx,  
> Lara

Sunday was normally their time together, a ritual they had begun early in their marriage, or maybe it even went as far back as their affair. It had been the easiest day to see one another, finding a hotel room and staying in so that they weren’t spotted together. A safe space where they could just be, and even once they were married that had continued.

Some Sundays they simply read beside one another, lounging on the sofa with coffee and blankets. Other times they wandered a nearby park and ended the day with a relaxed, lengthy early dinner on the patio of a cafe. Long talks over bottles of wine, holding hands and sharing a dessert before they went back home to spend the night making love…

Sundays had always been their sacred days.

With the introduction of Rylen into their relationship, Abby had felt apprehension as well as excitement when she thought of Sundays. She worried a bit that somehow Sundays would lose their value, or become awkward, that perhaps things would no longer come naturally to them. In the three months since they had started seeing him, though, Sundays had remained their day together. The only change was that time together included the three of them, instead of just the two of them.

Except for days like today, when Rylen had to work on the weekend and John was out of town. It had been one of the sacrifices they made when they moved to Kirkwall, knowing that he would have to travel far more often for work, still needing to go to the main branch of his firm in the Imperium.

John had left early that morning, waking her up in the predawn grey of their bedroom to kiss her goodbye. She had sat up from where she had been nestled in Rylen’s embrace, looping her arms around John’s neck to eagerly return his kisses. He had purred soft words of love and held her jaw in one hand, reminding her of his conditions for his time away before he praised her for remembering them.

She wasn’t quite certain if it was the return to their earlier bliss or the introduction of Rylen to their relationship, but John seemed comfortable in his own skin once more, just as he had explained to Wynne. He had regained the confident, commanding man who had wooed her rather scandalously when she was barely twenty. But she loved him, had always understood that he had a need to exert control over his life, especially in response to the circumstances of his birth. No one else had ever understood that need within him, and so he had tried to deny it as he tried to deny other aspects of himself to keep up appearances. Once he found her, though, he had relaxed into himself, embracing his desires just as she did.

She enjoyed it, savored being able to completely trust herself in his care and act out his fantasies for him. Rylen had added another aspect to that, and they had tentatively brought up introducing playing to their relationship. Abby was intrigued by the prospect, though hesitant to jump right in considering the occasionally stilted relationship between her lovers. Whatever assumptions she had made about John over the course of their marriage and what she knew about Rylen, she worried about a situation that could make any of them uncomfortable. To circumnavigate this and let them ease into each other as they had been for months, now, she had suggested that the upcoming trip be a test run for it. From a distance, there was less of a chance for a situation she knew John especially wasn’t ready for, and would be an excellent way to test the power dynamics.

After all, she was the common denominator, intimate with both of them in all ways, and what she had figured out from observing them together would take them longer as the ones experiencing the feelings.

In a way it had made her excited for the time apart, which before she had dreaded. Except for today, when she didn’t have work to preoccupy her, and her mind continued to wander as she tried to read on the sofa - alone. She caught herself checking her phone frequently, hoping to hear if John had made it safely or if Rylen was possibly getting off work early. It wasn’t until after dinner time that her phone finally began to play a familiar melody, and the picture she had snuck one morning of Rylen sleeping peacefully appeared on the screen.

“Ry! Are you finally done with work?”

“Aye, lass, I’m headed your way. I’m sorry I’m so late - today was a blasted mess,” he spoke loudly, and she could tell he had her on speaker. “I’m going to stop to grab a bottle for tonight, do you need anything? Did you eat?”

“I did, had a salad. Did you? Do I need to make you something?” she offered, setting aside her book as she absently glanced at the kitchen. Did they even have anything she could make, or would she need to run and grab something for him?

“I grabbed a burger, didn’t have time for anything else. But I’m fine,” he assured her. A moment’s pause and then he continued, “I’ll see you soon, lass, shouldn’t be long.”

“Great! Can’t wait to see you.” She waited for a follow-up goodbye, but the line went dead. With a soft frown she set her phone aside, wondering if perhaps he was just tired from a long day of work. Realizing that he would be there soon left her restless, ears pricked for every possible noise as she waited for the sound of his footsteps in the hall. She thought too of the key waiting on the kitchen counter, of the things she had to show him, and her heart raced.

When she heard the ding of the elevator and his heavy footsteps at last, she eagerly jumped off the sofa and rushed to answer the door just as his knocks sounded. To her surprise she was met by a scowl, Rylen’s dark eyebrows furrowed and a glare in his usually bright aqua eyes.

“Amatus -”

“Damn it, lass, don’t you even take the time to look through the peephole first?” he scolded.

Abby stared at him for a moment, mouth dropping open but no words finding their way to her lips.

Rylen let out a sigh and shook his head, stepping through the door and closing it firmly behind him. Before he did anything else he bolted the door, then stood for a moment with a hand on his hip, not facing her.

“Ry?” she tried tentatively.

“Sorry, Abigail,” he muttered and heaved a deep sigh. Turning to face her he slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her roughly against him. “I had a long day at work, it was - not a good day. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s all right, amatus,” she assured him, her words muffled and hot as her lips were pressed to his chest. “Can I get you anything or do anything?”

“Give me a kiss, would you?” he purred, and he placed a knuckle beneath her chin to tilt her face up to him. There was still a curious darkness in his gaze, concern or anger or something she couldn’t quite place as he peered down at her.

Instead of asking she offered a tender smile, snaking her fingers into the soft waves at his nape to pull him down to her. At first she pressed gentle kisses to him, but after he began to relax into her she caught his bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling and sucking at it before she encouraged his lips apart. As she focused on softly reassuring him against whatever plagued him with loving kisses, she felt the tension in his back release. His arms tightened around her and he returned her ardor, sighing into her mouth as they swayed together.

“Better, amatus?” she breathed against his lips, pulling back slightly so she could study his face.

His scowl had faded, and his eyes were closed as if he was relaxed. When he slowly opened them there was a different, familiar sort of gleam in his eyes, and it brought a smile to her. “Aye,” he murmured. “Thank you, lass.”

“Anytime.” She smirked and teased one last feather-light kiss to him before she stepped out of his embrace.

“I grabbed a bottle of champagne, but it’s not quite chilled,” he told her, holding out the small paper bag he was holding.

“Oh, no worries, I can fix that,” she said, and she took the bag from him. Removing the bottle as she wandered into the kitchen, she channeled her magic so that small ice crystals formed along the dark green glass until it was frosted completely. It was natural to her, the way she often cooled down or warmed up her coffee as needed, or often chilled John’s drink in the evening so that it didn’t get watered down with an ice cube.

“Do you mind opening it?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder as she opened the cabinet to grab two glasses for them.

The pained scowl on Rylen’s face gave her pause, and she watched as he scrubbed a hand along his chin, his other on his hip once more as he glared away from her. She wondered what she had done, what had brought his irritation back so suddenly, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

“Ry? What’s -”

“Aye, give me the bottle, I’ll open it,” he muttered, reaching a hand out but avoiding her gaze.

Deciding perhaps it was best to allow him his feelings and let him tell her when he was ready, she passed over the champagne and went back to her search for glasses. It was likely just the stress of his day; he’d said it was long and difficult, and he just needed to decompress. A distraction could maybe help, and after she set the glasses on the counter she reached for the shiny gold key on the marble island.

“I have a few surprises for you,” she began slowly.

He gave a grunt of curiosity as he popped the bottle open, but he didn’t say anything as he poured them each a glass.

“We, um - we made you a key,” Abby continued, deciding to just dive right in to what she had to say. “It wasn’t even a long conversation, we sort of brought it up and then just went and made a copy. We want you to have it, you should be able to come and go as you please and not have to knock -”

“I - I didn’t expect,” he interrupted, but then one corner of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. “Thank you, lass.”

“Of course. You’re a part of this, and we - well, I mean things are kind of…” She trailed off, unable to vocalize the feelings, cowardice burying the word _serious_ in her throat.

Rylen held her gaze, the sharpness in his own softening slightly as if in response to the word she had left unsaid, as if he knew exactly what it was. “Aye, they are,” he murmured after a moment.

Abby let out a breath, almost unaware of the way she had tensed until she eased again. She picked up her glass of champagne, letting the effervescent bubbles tickle her tongue as she tried to regain her composure. After she had swallowed she smiled and began to lead the way upstairs. “There’s more, if you want to come see.”

Rylen continued smirking as he picked up his own glass and followed her. As they made their way up the stairs Abby was conscious of the feeling of his eyes on her, the piercing and lustful stare she was so familiar with making her skin erupt in goosebumps without even facing him. But she had something to show him before _that_ and she tried to keep her mind on the task that came first.

Abby waved a hand as they crossed into the bedroom and magelight flickered into the lamps about the room as usual. A glance at Rylen showed his cheeks flexing, but he seemed to be focused on waiting until she showed him the surprise.

Until he saw it for himself.

Sitting in one corner of the bedroom, where the chaise lounge had sat, was a dark wood dresser that hadn’t been there before. It had arrived that morning after he had left for work, and Abby had spent the beginning of her day rearranging parts of the room. The excitement had only added to her restlessness all day as she waited for him to come home.

“Lass, I -”

“It’s for you,” she hurried to tell him. “John and I picked it out to match the rest of the furniture in here. I mean you’re here so much, and you keep having to bring your stuff to get ready for work -”

“Abigail -”

“I know we didn’t ask if you wanted it, but -”

“You’re rambling, lass,” he interrupted more firmly. But he was scowling, and she couldn’t help trying to justify the decision in response to renewed irritation in his gaze.

“John also cleared out space for you in the closet,” she whispered, as if afraid of his reaction to that confession on top of the rest.

He stared at the dresser for a moment, and then slowly walked over to inspect it. The silence dragged out as he sipped from his champagne and opened a drawer, peering within and seeming to consider something.

“Ry?”

He winced slightly as the drawer snapped shut in response to her questioning call. “Thank you, Abigail,” he finally said, but there was a strain in his voice and he still wouldn’t look at her.

The irritation at this, at their attempt to take a step forward and include him more intimately in their daily life was too much, and she found her voice. “Rylen,” she said, and her tone finally brought his gaze around to hers. “What’s wrong? Please tell me. If it’s us, if we overstepped, if you’re uncomfortable, don’t keep that in. If it’s something I did, I want to know.”

“No, no, lass, it’s - not really, I just feel,” he paused and shook his head, staring at the floor. He seemed to find the word and looked back up at her almost sheepishly. “I feel inadequate, sometimes. John always pays, he buys you things, he buys me things. Blast it, lass, he bought me toiletries to keep here, and set them up in the bathroom, and of course they were the most expensive ones you can find -”

“Ry, you should have said something,” she told him. “We agreed to talk to one another, about everything.”

“I’ve been embarrassed, I suppose,” Rylen admitted. “I’m not poor by any means, but voids, I’m just a detective, lass. And he’s a Tevinter nobleman, and a lawyer, and he can provide things for you that I never could.”

“Well, first off, it’s not a competition,” she gently reminded him. “But he’s not just trying to provide for me, I hope you see that. Those things that he’s done for you, that he’s given you - this, the dresser and closet space - he’s trying to take care of you too. And I am as well, I mean…”

She paused, trying to gather her thoughts, and as she did she closed the distance between them. Resting her hand on his, she squeezed where she held him and tried to encourage him to meet her gaze. “Ry,” she murmured. “You’re the one who always has to put in the effort to come over here, we never go to your place. And considering the circumstances, that’s made the most sense, I - I mean, if you’d like for us to put in that effort, we will, but -”

“No, lass, you’re right. It makes sense,” he assured her.

“We’re just trying to make it easier on you, and include you. This, giving you a key, giving you space in the bedroom, it’s - it’s us putting in equal effort, or at least trying. It’s...the next step,” she trailed off with a small shrug.

“Aye, you’re right,” he agreed after a moment. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to seem ungrateful. I really am. And I understand the reasons, I understand what you’re saying. It’s just hard for me sometimes to look past the differences between he and I, I suppose.”

“Are you certain that’s all?” she prompted gently. “You haven’t seemed yourself since you got home, did something happen today?”

Rylen drained the rest of his champagne and set the glass on top of the dresser, turning away from her once more as he did. She waited patiently for him to tell her, not wanting to badger him into disclosing what was clearly so upsetting.

“There was another mage attack last night,” he muttered, so quietly she almost had to hold her breath to hear him. “Spent all day trying to find the blighter who did it, but came up short.”

“Is - is the victim…”

“In a coma,” Rylen answered the unfinished question. “From what we can tell, they were followed home. Opened the door for their attacker, there wasn’t a forced entry. Neighbors - neighbors didn’t even _call_. At least not at first; someone coming up the stairs interrupted the attack, and the perpetrator ran off.”

“That’s horrible,” Abby whispered, then pressed her fingers to her lips. He had switched to his professional voice, delivering the facts, trying to keep emotion out of it, but she understood now.

_He’s worried for me._

And to be honest, the news hadn’t left her unaffected. Her heart was racing, faced with the reality that she did her best to avoid most days. It was different handling it in the context of work, since it was her job to distance herself from what she was covering for The Herald. Hearing about it outside of that sheltered setting, she actually felt the fear she usually buried.

_A mage in Kirkwall._

She knew how often John worried about her as well, how reluctant he had been to move her here and put her in harm’s way, though he had finally conceded to her desire to take the new position. He knew how much she cared about Kirkwall and the hardships faced by mages there, considering it was her roots as well as the reason her family had relocated to the Imperium when she was very young.

When she had first come into her magic…

Now she watched as Rylen gripped the edge of the dresser, seemingly trying to swallow the anger and concern he felt. Had he always felt that, considering he had been a Templar once? Or were these new feelings to him, making each case that he handled like this personal because he cared for a mage?

“Ry, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, not knowing what else she could say as she set aside her glass. She wanted to ask, wanted to see if this was new to him or what he had thought when he was a Templar, though she almost feared the answers she might receive.

Before she could ask she found herself enveloped in him, crushed against his chest as he tangled his fingers in her hair to force her to peer up at him.

“I can’t bear thinking that could happen to you, Abigail,” he growled. “I can’t protect you all the time, John can’t protect you all the time, and things are getting worse. The hate people bear for mages, I - I don’t understand it. What if...what if you -”

“Ry, I’ll be fine -”

He squeezed her more tightly, tugging her hair more roughly until she cut off her words. “If something happened to you, I think I’d go mad. You’re my lass, Abigail. My lass to hold and protect, mine…”

His voice was still a growl, and the anger she had seen in his gaze earlier had turned into something else, transformed with his imagined anguish. Before she could think to reassure him more, his lips captured hers, teeth pulling her lip sharply between them until she gasped. She was pinned to the dresser, his hips holding her there as he devoured her in a kiss that left her breathless and almost swooning.

Rylen had seemed to keep this passion tempered, but now it was as if a dam had burst. Desperately she clung to his arms, trying to keep up with a kiss that made her feel caught in a whirling eddy. When he finally relaxed how he pressed her to the dresser she was able to breathe, but a second later he had her in his arms.

He knelt in the middle of the bed, carrying her with him so that he could gently lay her on her back beneath him. “I’m so sorry I was upset when I got home, lass,” he purred as he nuzzled his nose against hers. “I have so many ways I want to make it up to you, though.”

“I understand, Ry,” she told him, but she smiled slowly as she peered up at him propped above her. “But I admit I’m still looking forward to the ways you want to make it up to me.”

“I hope you like what I have in mind.” He paused and trailed kisses along her jaw, continuing his path along her neck and to her ear. “Have I ever told you you have the loveliest arse of anyone I’ve ever seen?”

She giggled, his hot breath tickling her skin until she shivered. “You’ve maybe mentioned it before.”

“Have you ever let anyone worship it as it deserves to be?”

Her breath caught, her heart racing even faster at the question. To be honest, she hadn’t ever really thought of it. John was content as they were and she had only heard passing comments from friends about what they might have done. No one had ever asked, and she hadn’t ever thought to ask herself.

Rylen pushed himself to his hands above her, frowning down as he searched her gaze. “I’m sorry, lass, I just - if you don’t want to, we won’t. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, ever. Say the word and I’ll never mention it again.”

“No, I’m just - sorry, Ry, I’m just - surprised, and thinking,” she confessed. “I - I never have. Anything like that.”

“I thought so,” he told her. He pushed the hair off of her forehead, as if gently reassuring her. “Did I push too far?”

“You didn’t,” she assured him with a tender smile. “I just - um. I don’t know.”

“I’m not saying I’m about to roll you over and ravish you this moment.” He lowered himself to his elbows once more, relaxing back onto her as he realized he hadn’t crossed a line. “But, well - if it’s something you might be interested in...and you’d be in charge. As soon as you weren’t enjoying anything I’d stop. We’d never have to do it again.”

“I guess I’m a little embarrassed, I mean - you clearly have experience and I - I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she murmured. Abby avoided his gaze, plucking at one of his shirt’s buttons as she chewed her lip. The idea of seeming inexperienced in front of him was bringing up feelings she hadn’t felt since - well, John, all those years ago.

“The wonderful thing about that, lass, is that I can make certain you only ever experience what you want,” he suggested. “I can make you feel amazing if you’ll let me, Abigail,” he accented her name with a gentle kiss. “And perhaps, further down the road - your man and I could both take you. Do you think you’d like that?”

“M-maybe,” she sighed into his continued soft kisses. “Y-yes, I think - I think I would. I’m willing to try, at least. If you’ll show me and be - be patient with me.”

“I can be as patient as you need,” Rylen promised her. He began to push himself off of her and she whined, but he chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll be right back, lass, give me a moment.”

Abby craned her neck and watched as he crossed the room to where his duffel bag lay waiting beside the new dresser. He dug through the contents and withdrew a small, black velvet bag. There was a smirk on his face as he turned back to the bed, pulling open the drawstring and reaching within.

“I bought you something in case you did want to try,” he began. He removed his hand from the bag and held it out to her, and she pushed herself up so that she could look at what lay in his palm.

A silver, tapered metal plug with a black jeweled heart at the other end stood out against the tan of his skin, shining tantalizingly in the soft magelight from the room’s lamps. It was relatively small, so that she found she wasn’t nearly as intimidated by it as she expected to be.

“It’s - cute,” she said when she realized he was waiting for her reaction.

He laughed, his shoulders shaking as he did, and when he quieted himself after a moment he smiled at her. “Thoughts, then, lass?”

“We - we can try, yes,” she told him, realizing he was waiting for blunt affirmatives, still making certain he wasn’t pushing her for too much.

Rylen set aside the dainty plug on the nightstand, then opened the drawer to retrieve the bottle of lubricant and condoms that could always be found within. He placed all three items aside before he knelt and stretched over her once more.

“Do - do I need to tell you a safe word or -” she began, but he chuckled and brushed his nose to hers.

“No, lass - just tell me outright if it hurts or I need to slow down, anything - and I will. We’re not playing, the only rule is that I want you to be comfortable and honest with me. I want to make love to you, Abigail. I have you in my arms at the end of a hard day - you’re all I need.”

As he kissed her deeply as he had before, she marveled at the way he could return to such beautiful passion after such a frank and rather awkward discussion. Yet as he kissed her she forgot about the technicalities, merely giving in to just how much she felt, how desperately she longed to feel and taste every inch of him.

How long they lay and devoured one another in kisses she wasn’t certain, losing track of everything but how he filled her senses. How she could only smell sandalwood, and feel his heat against her, and taste the wonderful familiarity of his tongue on her own.

When he finally began to remove her clothing she shivered, her anticipation for more built to such a fevered pitch she wondered already how much more she could take. Rylen slowed how he caressed her once she was bare, sliding his tongue along every newly bared inch of skin with careful intention. His powerful hands grasped her hips and he gently rolled her over, encouraging her onto her knees so that her rear was angled up toward him.

Her heart raced as she remembered the prospect of what he had suggested, but to her surprise he spent a few moments merely gripping and caressing each round cheek that he held. He almost purred as he did, and before she could do more than moan and think to start begging for _something_ he leaned forward. His tongue slid slowly along her slit, beginning at her already aching pearl and finding its way against the puckered space between her cheeks.

A soft cry left her at the feeling, and he quickly repeated the action. Again and again he ran his tongue along her, occasionally stopping to spend more time teasing each delicate spot until she was limp on the bed, only her hips in the air as if begging for his attentions. He held her steady as he lapped slowly at her pearl until she trembled and gave a desperate mewl, and then just as suddenly he pulled away, focusing instead on sliding his tongue between her cheeks.

How many times he pulled away as she whimpered and hurtled toward the edge, she lost count, but finally she felt a finger join his tongue. He dipped it within her, teasing her with it before he slid it in to his knuckle and curled it. Several times he did this as he continued the strokes of his tongue until again she cried out and pulled at the sheets beneath her. As soon as she did he removed his attention, leaving her spread and panting beneath him on the bed.

Every nerve in her body was already buzzing, and she found herself struggling not just for breath but to keep in the tendrils of magic that wanted to leave her. She rolled her head on the silky sheets, gulping in air as she released the tight hold she had on the fabric. It was wet, and frosty, and she realized she hadn’t been as in control of herself as she had thought.

Rylen traced his finger along her slit, stopping to circle and spread her wetness where no one had touched her before but him. It filled her with a tingling excitement, which brought a soft moan to her throat at the prospect of something so new. Gently she felt him slip just his fingertip within her, letting it rest for a moment before he pumped it a few times. The feeling was different but not at all unpleasant, and when he finally began to insert more of his finger within her she let out a noise almost like a purr.

“Does that feel good, lass?” he asked, still slowly and carefully sliding his finger in and out of her.

“Yes, Ry.” She angled her hips higher, silently begging for more.

For a few long moments he continued to simply tease her with his finger, letting her adjust and ease into it. As her moans grew in frequency and she found herself rocking back against him, she heard Rylen shift behind her and then felt his tongue on her pearl once more. The nerves of her body felt as if they were on fire, buzzing as she trembled and cried out.

As soon as she did, Rylen pulled his mouth away, though he still worked his finger within her. After a few moments she rolled her head on the sheets beneath her and let out a desperate groan.

“Ry - more, please, more, I need - fuck I need _more_. Please, please, Ry. Amatus I need it.”

Abby wasn’t even certain what she was really begging for, but the teasing had turned her into a limp, desperate mess who would agree to anything at all if only he’d let her come. At her begging, though, Rylen pulled away from her completely, and she felt the mattress dip as he moved. She could hear him reaching for the nightstand, but she had her face buried in the plush duvet, trying to catch her breath.

She was only vaguely aware of the sounds of what he was doing, of clothes being shucked aside, what was probably the bottle of lube being opened and closed a moment later. Then something slightly cold and smooth was against her, ready to take the place his finger had abandoned. A mewl left her, and again she shifted her hips to offer all of herself to him.

“Just stay relaxed, lass,” Rylen murmured, and he grasped one round side of her rear to hold her steady as he slipped the plug into place.

It felt full, and wonderful, and she fluttered around it as she tried to adjust - and that only made her moan louder.

“How do you feel, Abigail?” he purred, and as he waited for her answer he began to circle her aching bundle of nerves with a fingertip.

“I’m - I’m so close, Ry. You’re driving me crazy,” she panted. “Fuck. Amatus. Please.”

A chuckle met her words, but still he kept up the steady rhythm of the finger that was tracing and parting her lips so that he could tease her clit. Everything felt more intense, similar to when John blindfolded her and all she could focus on was where he touched her. She wasn’t certain she had ever been more aware of how wet she was, how much her inner walls and muscles pulled taut as he pushed her close to the edge.

The sound of tearing foil penetrated her senses for a moment. She glanced behind her to see Rylen opening the condom packet with his teeth and one hand, his other still focused on teasing her. She closed her eyes again, letting her head loll on the sheets as she tried to rock her hips back to encourage him. When he responded by tapping her lightly on one ass cheek she let out a gasp that quickly gave way to yet another moan.

“Ry, please, please -”

The movements of his finger became more intentioned, rubbing at her pearl as she felt his hard cock slowly part her opening. She wasn’t aware of what she was saying, what pleas and promises she was making, only aware of how it all felt like _too much_ and yet _not enough_ all at once. Rylen was gripping her hips firmly with one hand, preventing her from rocking or thrusting back against him, holding her steady as he increased his pressure with his finger and slid more of himself within her.

As he thrust fully into her at long last, her body gave in and a desperate sob left her that almost drowned out his reminder to be a good lass and tell him how she felt. It was too much to describe, a feeling of fullness and weight that she couldn’t put into words, she could only call out to him as she lost herself to how he felt rocking gently within her. The added pressure of the plug he had gifted her made her see stars, and she trembled, her entire body thrumming with pleasure for longer than she could count.

Abby stilled after what felt an eternity, limp and panting on the bed once more as Rylen continued thrusting slowly. When she began to stir he sped up his pace, leaning over her to grasp her by the base of her throat. He encouraged her up onto her hands and knees, his lips tugging at her earlobe as he snapped his hips into hers with increasing intensity.

“How was that, lass? Hm? Did you like your gift?”

“Yes,” she managed to gasp, each of his rough thrusts pulling a whimper from her throat.

“You’re such a good lass, taking it so well,” he purred. “I can feel it too while I’m fucking you. Maker, Abigail - such a pretty little cunt. No one’s ever taken me so well as you do, lass.”

He held her up with his hand at the base of her throat, supporting her as she did her best not to collapse beneath him again.The angle placed his mouth beside her ear the entire time he took her, and he fully used it to his advantage. Continual purrs of praise laced with filth that brought heat to her cheeks and caused pleasure to pool in her belly accented each thrust. When he knew she was close he wrapped his free hand to the front of her, rubbing at her pearl.

“Are you going to come again? Such a greedy lass,” he chided playfully.

“Ry - I want -”

But her begging was interrupted by a familiar yet slightly muffled ringtone, and she glanced aside at where her phone had ended up on the side of the bed.

“It’s - it’s John.”

“I know,” Rylen said in her ear. “Answer it, lass.”

“But -”

“Now, Abigail. Answer it.”

Her heart sped up even more, but she did as she was told and reached a hand for her phone, swiping it quickly to answer it before it went to voicemail.

“H-Handsome,” she greeted, though her voice caught on the word as Rylen gave a particularly sharp thrust.

A deep chuckle sounded before John spoke. “Ah, I see you’re busy,” he purred, but he didn’t sound upset. “I was calling to let you know I’m checked into my hotel, glad I caught you.”

A strange kind of shame washed over Abby as she held the phone pressed to her ear, Rylen still moving within her as he teased her with a finger. It was different when John was there, when she could see him enjoy watching her with her lover, but now - it was his first call home, and they were already in bed together. In a way she hadn’t in all the times before, she actually felt caught in the act.

“Lass - tell him.”

“W-what?”

“Tell him how you feel, Abigail. Tell him what I’m doing to you. He’ll want to know.”

Abby closed her eyes and chewed her lip for a moment, doing her best to muffle the whimpers that wanted to leave her as Rylen pushed her back to the edge.

“Now, lass,” Rylen commanded, and he underscored his firm words with a brief swat to the rear.

And so she did, breathlessly confessing it all as if it were her list of sins, letting her husband hear her moans and cries when they interrupted her descriptions.

“Well,” John said slowly when she dissolved into desperate mewls instead of words, “are you going to come for him, Kitten?”

Abby put the phone on speaker, setting it next to her so she could brace herself against Rylen’s continued onslaught of passion. When she fell apart she let her cries carry, calling desperately for Rylen to take her harder. She collapsed on the bed beneath him as she finished, trembling and listless as he let out his own loud moan of approval, coming and also letting his climax carry over the speaker phone.

They stilled at last, only Abby was shaking, her face buried in the duvet beneath her as she tried to keep herself under control, gasping for air. She hadn’t expected to feel quite so much, and twice had been nearly, _wonderfully_ , unbearable.

She became aware of Rylen’s arms lifting her from the mattress and settling her instead on his chest, and he cradled her there for several long moments. He stretched an arm to the phone and held it, and she realized John was still on the line.

“Doing all right, lass?” Rylen asked tenderly.

“That was - I’m - I can’t stop shaking,” she managed to murmur.

“I know - I’ve got you, Abigail, it’s all right,” Rylen assured her. He was holding her tightly, pressing soft kisses to her hair, cuddling her to him as if he knew how intense it had been for her, as if he could help soothe the trembling of her body. “Such a good lass.”

“Agreed, Gorgeous. You were a good little Kitten, letting me hear all of that,” John chimed in.

“I’m - I’m glad you got there all right, Handsome,” she said, her voice steadying slightly as she began to calm.

“It was a long day, but now I just have the evening off for dinner and relaxing,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not lonely while I’m gone.”

“I’m so sorry, you’re there and we - I’m sorry -”

“What are you sorry for, Kitten? I arranged all of this for you, please don’t apologize. I’m pleased by my timing, that was luck on my part,” John mused, and then chuckled.

Rylen joined in. “Aye, I should have texted you. Maybe next time.”

“Sounds excellent,” John agreed. “How was your day?”

“Not good, hence the stress relief,” Rylen answered, and he sighed. “I’ll be sure to send you a picture of her new toy, though. It looks good on her.”

“I look forward to it,” John purred. “Well, I’ll let you two get in the shower or whatever you're doing next. I need to head to dinner, I'm having a casual drink with an old client too while I’m here.”

“I miss you, Handsome,” Abby told him.

“I miss you too, Kitten. Be good while I’m gone.”

“I promise.”

“Aye, take care mate, enjoy dinner.”

“Thank you, Rylen. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

They all said goodbye and Rylen set the phone aside, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her up his chest slightly as he did. “Feeling better, lass?”

She gave a noncommittal hum, snuggling her nose against his bare skin to breathe in the scent of his soap and sweat.

“I hope I wasn’t too - um, I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. I’m worried I crossed a line calling you mine, considering,” he mumbled. He was gently stroking her hair, brushing it off her forehead so that he could place kisses there. “I’m just so blasted batty thinking of how much danger you could be in.”

“No, you didn’t cross any lines,” she whispered. “You’re right, Ry. I am yours. I am John’s. I’m - I’m both of yours. I belong to you, too.”

His fingers tightened in her hair and he encouraged her to look up at him from where she rested her cheek below his collarbone. “Say that again, lass. Please.”

“I’m yours, Ry,” she told him. “I’m yours -”

He cut her off with a kiss, and she snaked her arms around his neck to hold him to her. When he finally pulled away he gave a lazy grin, reaching a hand down to grasp her hip.

“Well, now that you’re not shaking anymore,” he began, and gave a playful swat to her rear. “Let me take a photo of your gift for your man and then I’ll get the shower ready. Sound good, lass?”

She nodded eagerly and let him roll her off his chest. He reached for his phone and then encouraged her to her stomach, posing her hips so that he could take the promised photo. Once it was sent he leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Stay right here and I’ll warm the water,” he purred in her ear.

Abby watched from where she lay as Rylen moved around the room, stretching as he moved into the bathroom and turned on the lights. Contentment settled within her as she waited, listening to the water running and admiring the way the light played on his large physique and tan skin.

_His, but John’s too._

It felt more than just right - it felt perfect.


	10. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels so much shorter in comparison to the others in this fic, but what I have planned for the next one might be a beast so I don't want to combine them and accidentally create a behemoth. So here, have some smut and some :bipanic:

"Look at me, lass."

The video started with the simple command, the phone tilting slightly as a large hand reached to Abby's chin. Rylen tilted her face up with a knuckle, and she gave him an impish grin.

"Mmm, you look so gorgeous," Rylen muttered next, brushing a finger over her lips. "And those will look so pretty around my cock."

Abby bit her lip and ran her fingers up his thighs, settling herself more comfortably where she knelt naked between them.

As the video continued, giving Rylen's perspective of Abby unzipping his jeans to free his cock, John glanced around surreptitiously. But he had his headphones in, and his first class seat was isolated, giving him the privacy to view the video.

They had sent it the day before, in an email from Rylen suggesting that it be watched "Alone or around others, depending how daring you feel 😉" He had watched it last night in his hotel, but now with a long flight ahead of him he felt like teasing himself on his way home to them.

As he thought about the reunion that awaited him, he refocused on the video playing on his phone. Abby's mouth was around the tip of Rylen's cock, her tongue flicking and swirling around it as her gaze stayed fixed on Rylen. The angle made it appear as if she was staring straight into the camera.

"Mmm, lass," Rylen purred. He slid his fingers into her hair, brushing it back before he gripped the strands. Slowly he began to guide her, encouraging her to take more of his length into her mouth. "Do you like that?"

Abby nodded without removing her lips from him, then moaned as she stuck her tongue out and slid her mouth down as far as it could go. Rylen visibly jerked at the sensation, a loud groan joining the sound of wet suction as Abby pulled herself back and released his cock. She continued to hold his gaze as she coated him with more saliva, running thin fingers down his shaft to pull his foreskin back before she took his tip between her lips and sucked.

Rylen tenderly brushed his fingers into her hair again, gripping it and increasing the speed with which she moved her mouth along him. When she had allowed him to guide his length down her throat once more, he released her and she sat back on her heels.

"Do you want me to swallow?" she asked, wiggling one eyebrow at him suggestively. 

"No, lass - I want you to bring that pretty little cunt over here to ride me. Would you like that?"

Eagerly Abby nodded, using her hands on Rylen's knees to push herself to her feet. He gripped one hip, pulling her down into his lap as he shifted the camera to a new angle.

John was surprised when he lamented the lack of the perspective that he wished to see; Rylen's thick cock being covered by his wife's beautiful pussy. He pulled at one knee of his pants and adjusted himself in his seat, rationalizing that he just wished to see her being penetrated - ignoring the fact that he hadn't been able to look away from Rylen's cock as she had sucked at it.

He just knew how wonderful she was, that was all.

The camera settled finally now that Abby and Rylen had finished situating themselves and set it down on the table beside them. Rylen had turned in the chair he sat in, one leg draped over its arm, so that Abby's back was to the camera. As she began bouncing herself on him with a desperate, rapid pace, the light caught the glitter of the jeweled butt plug from where it rested between her cheeks.

Rylen's large fingers were holding her hips, helping to leverage her as she rode him, the staccato of flesh slapping on flesh matching the brief cries she was letting out.

"Ry - Ry - I can't - fuck you feel so good, amatus," she gasped, trying to slow to grind her hips against him.

But Rylen tightened his fingers on her hips, lifting and lowering her as he began to thrust his hips up to pound himself into her.

A mewl met the change in pace, and Rylen's new positioning and movements allowed a perfect view of his cock sliding in and out of Abby. The condom he had put on drew John's focus, and as he had the night before he wished he could watch Rylen fill her, could see the evidence of his pleasure pouring out of her.

Strangled cries marked Abby's release, her fingers digging into Rylen's arms as she threw her head back. He continued thrusting hard and fast into her as she swayed above him, and then with a sound almost like a growl he slammed her hips onto his. As he finished he rocked her hips against him, and John felt himself throb, almost painfully hard and nearly coming in his slacks.

A week and a half away seemed far too long, although they had done a marvelous job of including him in their time together. Fondly he thought of the night they had video called him, how he had given them both instructions and watched as they made love to one another based on his commands. Denying and edging them both had been even more enjoyable than he had thought it could be. All it did was make him look forward to trying playing all together once he returned home.

Remembering the way Rylen had taken her from behind, both of them facing the camera and holding John's gaze made him strain further against his slacks. With a sigh he turned the video off, cutting it short before they wished him a good night, Abby snuggled into Rylen's muscular arms and smiling contentedly. It wouldn't do to further arouse himself when his only current option was a tiny, thoroughly unsexy airplane bathroom.

The rest of the flight home he did his best to focus on work, reading the contracts and briefs he had brought with him. His mind continued to wander to the video, to the texts he had received that day from both of them, the longing he felt to hold Abby in his arms, and even to see Rylen again.

He missed them.

As soon as the plane landed he hurried off, grabbing his bag from the carousel once he spotted it so he could rush to his car. The ride back to the penthouse seemed to pass more quickly than normal, until he found himself pulling into his reserved parking space almost before he knew it. The one beside it was empty, and he was disappointed by the sight, realizing it meant Rylen was likely still at work.

Abby opened the door at the noise of his key in the lock, pulling the knob away from him as she swung it open. "Handsome!" She flung herself into his arms, showering him in kisses with her hands on his cheeks to pull him down to her. As if his body had been waiting to resume its arousal from earlier, he felt himself harden in his slacks at the touch of her lips to his.

He had waited long enough for her.

In a few long strides he pushed her back to the marble island in the kitchen, shrugging out of his jacket to throw aside as he did. Without bothering to say anything he reached for the waist of her pants and began to push them down, baring her just enough for access. He returned her greedy kisses for a few long moments as he slid his fingers along her slit, need coiling within him when he felt how wet she was.

"Kitten," he moaned, rubbing his finger against her clit and enjoying the soft gasp it brought from her. Unable to wait longer he spun her away from him and pushed her over the counter, using one foot to kick hers further apart. He worked at the buckle of his belt with one hand, the other moving with slight wonder and excitement to the jewel resting in her ass.

"Did Rylen tell you to wear that?" He murmured as he freed himself.

"Yes," she purred. Her hands went to the sides of the counter and she raised on her toes, offering herself to him eagerly.

It was more of an invitation than he needed.

In one long thrust he slid himself within her, marveling at the snug heat of her just as he always did. There was an added pressure that made him groan, and he realized it was the plug she wore.

He needed to remember to thank Rylen for asking her to be ready for him when he got home.

Bending over her he began to move, taking up a pace that kept her thighs pinned tight between his and the counter. He grasped a handful of her hair and turned her head so that he could press his lips to her ear.

"How many times did he take you?" he demanded.

"T-twelve," she answered breathlessly.

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes," came the answer as a long moan. "But I missed - fuck, Handsome, I missed you. John - John."

She continued to whimper his name, her voice catching occasionally on a sharp cry as he repeatedly hit the spot that he knew drove her wild. As he chased what he so desperately needed from her he whispered a steady stream of praise and filth in her ear, relishing the way she was bouncing helplessly beneath him. His teeth caught her earlobe, nibbling and sucking at it until she was writhing.

The second she begged for her pleasure he moved the hand that had a vice-like grip on her hip to her clit, stroking it deftly until she nearly screamed. He could feel her throbbing around him, every sensation of her inner walls clenching intensified from the plug she wore and their time apart. They reached the edge together, then fell over it as one with noises that were erotically primal in their intense urgency.

When at last they were spent, he relaxed on her back and nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "I missed you too, Kitten."

She let out a giggle between pants, and then sighed as if thoroughly contented. "I'm so happy you’re home. Did you enjoy your presents?"

"More than I can put into words," he assured. With one last kiss to her jaw he straightened and pulled himself from her.

Abby took a moment longer to steady herself and stand, reaching for the pants that still rested beneath her rear. Once she was covered she turned to face him, a beautiful flush on her cheeks as she smiled at him. She reached for his pants and tucked him back into them, doing up the zipper and belt before she spoke.

"Rylen should be home soon, he's stopping to grab dinner for us."

A wide smile broke across John's face, and it took him a few moments to realize all the reasons why. "Home," he muttered absently.

"Oh, I just mean -"

"No, I - I actually like the sound of that," he hurried to correct. But he cleared his throat and stepped back from her.

He could feel her watching him curiously as he circled the island to the bar. As he poured himself two fingers of Mackay's he avoided her gaze, trying to sort his thoughts out before he faced her.

"We - we can talk about that later," she suggested, and his heart warmed at the happy hope he could hear in her tone. "How was your flight?"

Before he had a chance to answer the front door swung open, and they both turned to it. Rylen was frowning slightly as he pulled John's keys from the lock, but when he glanced up and saw them both standing in the kitchen he smiled.

"Ah, lass, I was hoping he'd just forgotten to grab them," he said. He closed the door with his foot and walked into the kitchen to set the bags of takeout he carried on the counter.

"We got a bit distracted, Ry," Abby explained, a smirk coming to her lips. She crossed the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him, planting a tender kiss to him when he leaned down to meet her. "How was your day?"

"Fine," Rylen answered. He straightened and met John's gaze, a bright smile coming to his face when they locked eyes. "Glad you made it home, mate."

They took steps toward one another, Rylen holding out a hand as if to clasp John's. On impulse John reached out his free arm, pulling Rylen into a tight embrace.

For only a moment Rylen hesitated before he wrapped an arm around John's shoulders, his other at his waist, holding him to him with surprisingly comforting strength. John noticed the familiar scent of sandalwood from Rylen's soap, the scrape of a day's worth of stubble against his cheek, and found his body relaxing into the bear-like hug.

"I'm glad to be home," he agreed as he stepped back, only vaguely aware of the way Rylen cleared his throat but smiled and the curious gleam in Abby's eyes as she watched them.


	11. One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

"I am sorry, lass, it's just - I need to take care of this," Rylen's voice carried over the line.

"Are you sure you don't want to come over still? We can take care of the car tomorrow." Abby ran a finger over a line in the marble counter, fighting the disappointment welling up inside her.

"I'll need to get it to the shop when it opens in the morning, and have some things I can work on since I'll be here." A moment passed before he let out a sigh. "I'll see you in your dreams, lass, but tell John I'm sorry I had to cancel on you. I know he said we had things to talk about tonight."

Abby's heart sank as she thought about it, but she forced a smile so that he wouldn't hear the sadness in her tone. "It's all right, you're off tomorrow, right? We'll see you then," she assured him. "And just let one of us know if you need anything."

"Aye, lass. I will."

Abby wished him a good night and hung up her phone, which she set on the counter to trade for the wine glass she had set there.

"Everything all right?" John asked from where he was working nearby to plate their dinners.

"Rylen's been having car trouble, and he made it from his office to his apartment but didn't trust going further," Abby explained. She took a sip of wine instead of sighing as she longed to.

"I'd be happy to go get him, he should have said something," John told her, turning toward her with a frown. He began to wipe his hands on a towel, moving in the direction of the door.

"I offered but he said he wants to work on it some tonight before he tries to take it to the shop in the morning." Abby offered John a shrug. Her eyes wandered over the three wine glasses and plates that were out, the dinner and bottle of wine that they had prepared.

"Maybe I should call him," John suggested, but Abby shook her head.

"No, he sounded like he was busy," she lamented. "Let's just have dinner, we'll see him tomorrow."

When she met John's gaze she saw his frown deepen before he looked away, as if lost in thought. "You okay?"

He nodded and moved back to the stove, picking up a plate to begin serving. They moved to the table with their dinner and wine, each giving the empty place Rylen usually sat at a passing glance. For two months now Rylen had become an even more permanent fixture of their days, after they had given him a key and space in their bedroom. There had been little adjustment, considering how much time he had already spent there, and tonight…

"I was really looking forward to this," Abby admitted softly. She set her fork down and reached instead for her glass of wine, suddenly not as hungry as she had been.

"I worry he heard that we had something we wanted to talk with him about and - got scared, perhaps," John admitted just as quietly. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back, frowning once more.

"I doubt that's it, I know he's said his car has been acting up lately." But the way Abby's insides twisted at John's speculation made her realize she had worried the same.

"Do you - do you think it's too soon?" John asked, peering over his wine glass.

"I - I hope not. He's already basically been living here, we were just going to - make it official," Abby murmured. "Do you think he'll say no?"

John considered the empty seat across from him and cleared his throat. "I hope that's not the case."

"Me too. I just - maybe you and I don't know how to take things slow. We've been married for so long, I can't even really remember how fast we moved at the beginning."

"Probably too fast, depending on who you ask," John mused, a wry smile pulling at his lips. The frown quickly returned, though, and he set his wine down once more. "Are you - are you still sure?"

Abby nodded enthusiastically, but tilted her head as she considered her husband. "Are you asking me because you're not?"

"No, no, I'm just making certain," he assured her. "It feels right, it feels like a step we should take. Things have been going so well, it only feels natural to move forward. I suppose...I suppose I'm still worried, if things fall apart down the line, how complicated will they get, especially if we're all living together."

"That's true of any relationship, though," Abby pointed out. "And I think we're ready for this. As I said with Wynne last week, I - I don't see this ending. I don't see a future without the two of you in it."

"I agree," John told her after a moment. He fiddled with the food on his plate before he raised his gaze to hers, holding it intently as if trying to determine something from studying her face. "There's something else I wanted to ask you, something I've been thinking about."

Abby quirked an eyebrow as she reached for her wine, sudden nerves making her hand shake slightly. "Which is?"

"Well, it's been - voids, over four months now? And we know - I mean he went to the doctor and we've all only been with each other since that first night. I was starting to wonder if maybe - maybe you wanted to get back on something so that condoms weren't necessary."

Abby stared at her wine before she drained the rest of it, trying to think through how to voice everything the question brought to mind. Finally she raised her eyes to his, and almost sheepishly shook her head. John raised an eyebrow, but waited for her to explain her reasoning.

"It's just," she cut off in a sigh and chewed on the words as she tried to find the right ones. "I still want a family, and I - I don't want to get on something only to have to go off it again then readjust and set us back in - in trying. Once we want to."

John sat back in his chair, contemplating his clasped hands as he absorbed her answer. "Kitten, you know that I - I can't."

"I know, but…" She trailed off, taking a deep breath as she considered voicing the possibility that had begun to take shape in her mind these past few months. "If we're - if all of us, moving forward, are together, then...maybe...maybe _we_ \- still can."

He was silent for so long her heart began to race, worried that her confession had upset him, that perhaps she had wounded him with the hint of what she wanted. After several long moments he finished his wine before pushing himself from his chair to search out the bottle. When he sat once more she reached for his knee, trying to catch his attention and get him to look at her.

“Handsome?”

“Have you - have you and he talked about that?” John asked, still avoiding her gaze.

“No, this is - the first time I’ve let myself actually vocalize or even hope that that could be. Maybe. I mean, not anytime soon, it’s just…”

“Do you think that’s something he wants?” John gave her a sidelong glance as he topped off their glasses, picking his up to take a deep gulp as soon as he had filled it.

“I don’t know,” she answered with a shrug. “It’s just something I’d considered. Some - small hope, I suppose. I still want to be a mother, and if I’m going to have you both in my life, I guess...it makes a certain kind of sense.”

John nodded slowly, staring at the deep red liquid he swirled in his glass. She let him have his time to process, to think through what she had confessed. Just as she was feeling the silence was too much, that she should walk back what she had said, assure him that it was just one possibility of many, he finally set his wine down and reached for her fingers on his knee.

“We’ll see, Kitten. It will - depend on a lot of things,” he conceded. “But perhaps we shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves. First living together, and then - we’ll see what the future holds. For all of us, together.”

Turning her hand in his she squeezed his fingers, leaning toward him to try to implore his gaze to hers. “Of course, Handsome. I wasn’t saying any time soon, just - I’m not sure I want to mess with my hormones again if it’s - if it’s in the future, still.”

“I understand,” he agreed. “I had only thought maybe you’d enjoy not having to worry about condoms with him anymore, that maybe that was holding you back.”

“I appreciate it,” she assured him, squeezing his fingers once more. “Now, let’s just try to enjoy a nice dinner and not focus on what could be.”

He met her gaze fully at long last and smiled, almost thoughtfully, and then he winked. “I suppose if you’ll be seeing him in the Fade tonight we should - give you something to tell him about.”

Abby giggled slightly at the mischievous gleam in his eyes, then sat back to sip at her wine. “You’re right, we should.”

 

* * *

 

How long had it been since he had actually spent a night at his own apartment?

As he ran the tiny piece of soap he had left over himself, he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d shopped to keep this apartment stocked even with bare essentials. Ever since he had gotten the key two months ago, he wasn’t certain he had spent more time here than it took to grab something to take to the penthouse. Even the two months before that he’d been hard pressed to sleep alone.

That had been the hardest part of his night, falling asleep in the smaller, empty bed of an apartment that now felt strange and foreign to him. It had been an adjustment to share a bed with two other people, and yet he had gotten used to and now found he preferred it. After tossing and turning he had finally fallen asleep, the only incentive he had to sleep being that he would see Abigail in the Fade at least.

At first she had seemed hesitant, making certain that he was all right and had merely had his car troubles to deal with. Perhaps the lass had been worried he had had another trying day of work and needed time alone, but there was something in her eyes that had piqued his interest.

It made him think he should have accepted the offer to go over, instead of insisting that he focus on his blasted car.

He couldn’t remember the last time they had had to settle for satisfying themselves with the Fade, and while he had enjoyed that chance to see her, he now knew just how much it paled in comparison. She had put in effort in making it exciting, teasing him with descriptions of what John had done to her, of things he had told her to tell Rylen. But waking alone, covered in the mess of evidence from their pleasure in the Fade had left him feeling hollow, wishing that instead he had awoken to the real thing.

Now he turned off the shower, dragging himself out of its warmth so that he could set to work on his car. He had some things he knew he could fix before he took it to a shop, and was determined to do what he could on his own. After he had dried himself he pulled on an old tee shirt and jeans, and was just pulling on his boots when there was a loud knock on his door.

Frowning he crossed the apartment to open it, and stood speechless for a moment at the sight of John waiting on the other side.

“Rylen, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” John greeted. He was wearing a suit, which was surprising considering the hour and the fact that it was the weekend, but he was smiling brightly.

"No, mate, it's fine. Here, come on in." Rylen stepped back, holding out a hand in invitation.

John crossed the threshold, still smiling, and placed his hands in his pockets as he looked around. Again Rylen felt the pang of not being enough, mentally comparing his meager home to the penthouse. Whether or not John was doing the same it was impossible to tell, because he still merely smiled and looked perfectly at ease.

"Abby told me about your car troubles, it sounded serious," John finally broke the silence.

"Aye, blasted thing is beginning to show its age. It’s had some parts that need replacing for a while now, but I’ve been putting it off,” Rylen groused, and he dragged a hand along his chin as he thought about it. “I’m sorry I had to cancel last night, I just sort of thought I’d keep putting it off if I didn’t come home. I know you said we had something to talk about…”

He trailed off, burying the concerns he’d had that a _“we need to talk”_ moment was coming for them. They weren’t put to rest by the appearance of John at his door this time of morning, alone.

“It’s fine,” John assured him. “We missed you but we understood, of course. We can all talk tonight.”

“Is everything all right?” The question was reflexive, though he hated acknowledging his anxiety that perhaps they were - done.

“Yes! Yes, sorry, it is,” John hurried to correct. He pursed his lips for a moment before he shrugged. “Just something we should talk about, the three of us. I’d say more but I know Abby wants to be here.”

“Aye, of course,” Rylen agreed, but he shoved his hands in his pockets as if he could hide his continued apprehension by doing so. “So, what brings you here, then?”

“Right, I’m sorry. I suppose I thought maybe - we were past being - suspicious of one another’s motives,” John muttered. 

The way his posture deflated slightly tugged at something within Rylen, and he found himself resisting the urge he had to reach out to reassure him. His tone of voice must have carried the stress he was feeling, and he regretted his words. He had endeavored to keep himself from being obvious, though, endeavored to keep his attraction buried within him.

Friends was best for all of them, since his feelings were unlikely to be reciprocated, especially as they had been so surprising to him when he had taken notice of them.

“We are, mate, sorry. Just didn’t expect you to drop by,” Rylen corrected.

A small smile tugged at John’s mouth before he cleared his throat and looked around. “I have something, actually, if you have a moment to join me outside?”

Rylen frowned but nodded, gesturing a hand back to the front door. He grabbed his keys from the hook on the wall and followed John out, locking up after them. They made their way in silence down the stairs and out onto the street, Rylen’s mind churning about what John had to show him.

When they stepped out into the sunshine, Rylen didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, nothing sticking out to him as something John wanted to share. John led the way to an SUV beside the curb, and it took Rylen only a moment to realize it wasn’t his normal vehicle. Instead it was a dark navy SUV, the same as Rylen’s, only it was the newest model - and by the look of it, likely the one with every additional feature imaginable.

“What?” Rylen managed to get out, as John fished in his pocket for a key fob.

“Do you like it?” John asked, turning an eager grin to where Rylen stood frozen in place behind him. The emotions Rylen was feeling must have shown on his face, because John frowned sharply as he looked between where he stood and the SUV.

“I’m - not sure I understand,” Rylen murmured, though he felt certain that he did, actually, understand.

It was more like he couldn’t believe it.

“Well, I know how much you rely on your car for work, and having it out of commission would be a hassle,” John began slowly. “Plus as you said, it was getting up in years, probably miles too. At this point a replacement seems like a wiser option…”

He trailed off slightly, then glanced down at the key fob he was worrying with his fingers. As if offering an olive branch, John held it out to Rylen, giving a bright, almost proud smile.

The words wouldn’t come to his lips, the phrase he knew was expected in this situation, and what was even stranger was the way John didn’t seem to mind that they weren’t immediately spoken. He merely held out the key, patiently waiting for Rylen to take it from him. When he finally did, John placed his hands back in his pockets, positively beaming.

“Want to take her for a spin? I was thinking maybe you could join us for lunch, Abby was going to make something,” John told him, acting as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Still struggling against every emotion bubbling up inside him, Rylen moved as if on autopilot. He circled the SUV and opened the driver’s side door, his nostrils immediately met by the scent of fresh leather and the other traces of ever elusive _new car_ scent.

He hauled himself into the seat for lack of anything better to do, glancing around at all of the screens and shining knobs that graced the dashboard. John settled in beside him, and as Rylen adjusted his seat so that he could start the car John began to point out its features.

His eagerness to show it off would have been endearing, and almost downright adorable, if Rylen hadn’t found a red hot fury welling up within him. Fighting against it, he focused instead on figuring out how to turn the damned thing on, resisting the urge to glare at John when he pointed out the push-to-start feature.

The entire trip back to the penthouse, Rylen tried to simply drive and not lose himself in his anger and irritation. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact cause, except that he knew that this, finally, was too far and too much. John continued to talk about the car, even opening the sunroof so that they could enjoy the late winter sun.

It wasn’t until they were parked and getting out that John quieted, watching Rylen as he stared at the outside of the SUV as if inspecting it. “So, does it meet your approval?”

“You didn’t need to do this, mate,” Rylen managed to say, and he only vaguely regretted the growl the words came out in.

John faltered for a moment, then shook his head confidently. “No, but I wanted to.”

“Oh, aye, just another chance to show off,” Rylen snapped. Without another word he turned and marched to the lifts, jamming his finger on the button and almost wishing he could manage the ride up alone.

But John stepped in beside him, and a sidelong glance at his face showed an almost wounded frown on his face. “I - I thought you’d like it.”

The confession was enough to throw Rylen’s emotions back into conflict, again warring with how angry he was with something deeper, almost like guilt at his reaction. As soon as the doors opened Rylen crossed to the door of the penthouse, using his key to unlock it so that he could cross the threshold quickly.

“Ry!” A happy cry greeted him from the kitchen, and he glanced aside to see Abigail setting a large salad bowl down on the counter. She was smiling warmly, eyes alight as they always were when she looked at him, but she paused when she took in the scowl on his face. “Something wrong? Is your car -”

“Did you know about this, lass?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at John entering the penthouse behind him.

“Know what? Handsome, I thought you went to work?”

“So then he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

The innocently confused frown that quirked her eyebrows as she looked between them finally quelled Rylen’s urge to shout. He glared at John one last time, but realized perhaps he simply needed a moment to cool down and collect his thoughts. With that plan of action drowning out his anger, he merely shook his head and crossed to the glass doors that led to the balcony.

“Just - let me,” he heard Abigail mutter, and then quick footsteps followed him.

Once on the balcony he stopped before the railing, gripping it and hanging his head as he took a few deep breaths. The door opened and closed behind him, but a glance over his shoulder revealed only his lass, crossing her arms as she took a few steps to join him in looking over the city.

“Ry? What’s wrong?”

“He really didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? Amatus, what’s going on?” She turned to face him, resting a hip against the balcony as she searched his face with her dark gaze.

Rylen let out a deep sigh, dragging his hand down his chin, scrubbing it over the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning. “John - decided to solve my car problem, it seems.”

“Oh Maker,” Abigail muttered, a soft chuckle leaving her as she shook her head. “What did he do?”

“Bought me a brand new one. Made certain to get the same one, just - infinitely better,” Rylen grumbled.

Abigail hummed noncommittally for a moment, nodding slowly before she swore under her breath. “That man.” She took a breath before she met his gaze again. “I had no idea. He got up and got ready this morning, and I thought perhaps he was heading into the office. If he’d told me I would have - well, at least insisted he talk to you first.”

“Aye, but he didn’t,” Rylen snapped. “Instead he just threw his money behind a solution, as he always does.”

“He was trying to help,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t need his help, Abigail -”

“Ry -”

“No, lass! I’m blasted - I’m sick and tired of him pulling shite like this.” Rylen braced his hands on the railing, leaning his hips back as he hung his head. He was trying not to take this out on her, trying not to vent his anger, but it was too much.

“Amatus, listen to me,” Abigail said softly, stepping forward to rest a hand on his bicep. She squeezed where she held him, stroking him in a soothing rhythm with her thumb. “I doubt even he knows why he did it.”

“What do you mean? You think he doesn’t know _why_ he went out and bought me a _brand new blasted car?_ Are you batty?”

“I’m sure he thinks he knows why he did it, and I’m sure if you asked him he’d try to tell you he was just trying to fix a problem. But that’s not what I mean,” she insisted. She took a moment before she began again, her voice lowered as if she worried about being overheard. “He cares about you.”

“Aye, as his wife’s lover -” he denied.

“No, Ry, that’s not what I mean,” she interrupted firmly. “Listen, I know John better than anyone. This - gifts, trying to be there when he’s needed, going above and beyond to take care of you - it’s how he shows love. Especially at the beginning.”

A beat of silence followed her words, and finally Rylen pushed himself from the railing, straightening as he looked down at her. There was a soft earnestness in her eyes, as if she was imploring him to understand her words.

“What are you saying, lass?”

“It was the same way when he and I first got together,” Abigail explained. “Extravagant gifts, nice dresses for when we went out, jewelry, trips abroad, paying for any little thing I happened to mention I needed. Andraste’s tits, a few months in the man bought me an apartment so that I didn’t have to live with roommates and furnished it completely. He paid for my degrees once we took up together, even though I insisted he didn’t need to.”

“So what, I should just let him? Did you?”

“Maker, no. Not always. We fought about it plenty, especially when he insisted I didn’t need to work, that he could take care of me. I had to make him see that working was something I wanted to do, for myself.” She offered a small smile of understanding, then chuckled again. “I’m just telling you that I can see this for what it is. He wanted to do this for you, because he wanted to make you happy, and wanted you to feel taken care of. Especially by him."

“But he doesn’t need to.”

“No, he doesn’t. But he does anyway, because it makes him feel good. Because he’s trying to show you how he feels, even if he doesn’t fully understand it himself.”

“Are you really saying - that he…” He trailed off, unable to vocalize the sentiment, almost for fear of being laughed at. Or, perhaps, being told that it could never be.

“That he cares deeply for you? Yes,” she answered simply. “I’ve been watching him, listening to him, and I can tell he’s confused and trying to sort it all out. This sort of impulse to do something for you, though, basically confirms the suspicions I've had for a while now."

Rylen looked back out over the city, trying to take in the words. "As - as a friend, or…?"

"No," she answered firmly. "He wants you. And this might have been the moment he's realizing it himself for what it is."

"How can you tell?"

"Well, besides the brand new car?" she said ruefully, then smirked. "He looks quite sad in there right now, thinking that he did something to upset you. He wanted you to like it, because to him that would have been the same as liking him."

Rylen followed her gaze through the windows into the penthouse, able to make out John in the kitchen, staring into a glass of scotch as if pouting. The sight brought guilt back to him, momentarily overpowering the anger he felt.

"Look, I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't be angry with him. You have every right to be," Abigail broke the silence. "I'm just trying to help you see his motivations. We agreed to open communication, so please - talk to him."

"What do I even say?" Rylen sighed, shaking his head as he peered down at her.

"The truth," she told him. "Although maybe hold off on any confessions for now. He's likely...reeling from his own realizations."

"What, and you think I'm not?"

Abigail smiled, reaching her hands to his waist to tuck herself against him. "You at least accept that part of yourself. He never has. Give him some time."

Rylen relaxed into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her and leaning down to press his nose into her hair. "You were right, lass."

"Mmm, I often am, so you'll have to be more specific," she quipped.

With a few barks of laughter, Rylen tightened his arms around her, feeling the anger dissipate little by little in her presence. After a few moments he cleared his throat, pulling back so he could meet her gaze. "He's far more likeable than I ever thought. I think once he started to relax around me, I could see through that pompous Vint shell and I...I do like him. Quite a lot. He's -"

"Witty? Intelligent? Charming? Tender?" She suggested, much as she had once listed her husband's flaws.

Rylen nodded. "And, I'll be honest, also incredibly sexy. He has a - magnetism to him. I truly enjoy being around him."

"Well good, because hopefully you'll be seeing a lot more of him." As soon as the words were out she bit her lip, looking as if she hadn't meant to say it.

"What do you mean, lass?"

Abigail sighed, reaching up to brush her hair off her forehead. "We wanted to talk to you together, but I'm hoping now he didn't ruin that with this whole - impulsively flinging affection at you thing."

"Talk about what?" Rylen frowned and stepped back from her, waiting for an explanation to come at last.

"We were going to - are going to - ask you if you'd like to move in with us," she told him. When she raised her gaze he saw that hesitation in her eyes that he had noticed in the Fade, and wondered what was causing it.

"You are? Then why do you look so hesitant?" Rylen prompted her.

"Because, to be honest, I'm scared that you won't want to, that you'll take it as an insult instead of how we mean it," she confessed, avoiding his gaze. "We want you here, with us, but I'm scared you'll take it like we think our home is better, that you need us to take care of you."

The words were softly murmured, but tore through Rylen. This was what his pride had brought on, doubt from her that he knew she - they - cared about him. With a heavy sigh at himself he looked away, scrubbing at his chin.

"I'm sorry, lass, I didn't mean - I haven't meant to make you feel like I think you're a - a snob. Or that you don't really care about me -"

"It's fine, Ry, I understand. After all John does keep doing - what he does."

"No, it's not all right lass," he insisted, and he stepped forward to take her back in his arms. "Aye, I'm mad at your man about the car. But that doesn't mean I think you would ask me to move in out of - pity or the like. Blast, lass - I'm so sorry if you think that -"

"Really, Amatus, I understand," she murmured. "But we should continue this inside. I think you two need to talk first."

Rylen sighed and stepped away from her, taking another deep breath before he crossed to the door. She followed, letting him lead the way into the kitchen.

"Rylen, I'm terribly sorry if I crossed a line," John said as soon as he saw him. "I just - I just wanted to…"

"Aye, you wanted to help me," Rylen finished for him. He sank onto one of the barstools, trying to collect his thoughts before he continued.

"If you don't want it, I understand," John acquiesced quietly. He was staring into his glass, but occasionally his eyes flitted up to seek out Rylen's face. Something about the sheepish look coming from the normally confident, self-assured man finally broke Rylen of the intense anger he had felt.

"Listen, mate, I just - don't like feeling lesser, or like you think I'm a charity case." The confession hurt, mostly because it was so very honest, and it left Rylen feeling even more vulnerable.

"That's not what I think of you, and I certainly didn't mean to insult your pride." John sighed and shook his head. "I just wanted to do something for you, but I'm afraid I'm not very good at…"

"Subtlety?" Rylen suggested, chuckling softly. Behind him he heard Abigail giggle as well, and then she took the barstool beside him. "Just - just ask, in the future. At least when it's something this...extravagant."

"Of course," John agreed quickly, nodding eagerly. "And I should have, I suppose I just wanted to surprise you."

If Rylen wasn't mistaken, a hint of pink tinted John's cheeks as he swallowed hard, still avoiding looking up. With a glance beside him to Abigail, Rylen saw her watching the pair of them calmly, an interesting quirk in one eyebrow as she regarded her husband. How long had the lass suspected?

"It - it is a nice car," Rylen conceded, hoping to break the awkward tension between them. "And I do appreciate the gesture even if - even if it felt like too much."

John nodded again, almost looking forlorn, but he raised his piercing gaze at last to meet Rylen's. "So does that mean…?"

"Aye, I'll keep it," Rylen grumbled, feeling his own cheeks heat when he saw the keen smile that broke across John's face. "Just maybe no more surprise, large purchases without talking to me first."

"I promise."

Silence fell over the three of them, John and Rylen both shifting slightly, not looking at one another.

"Well, now that that's settled," Abigail chimed in after a moment. She sat forward, leaning her elbows on the counter. "So, about our living arrangements."

John straightened, frowning at her. "Uh -"

"Sorry, Handsome, I accidentally let it slip outside," she told him with a brief shrug. "Rylen, we've been thinking that we'd like you here. Living with us. But it's not because we think you need to, we're hoping it's -"

"Because you want to," John interjected, a plaintive look in his eyes as he met Rylen's once more.

"Aye, I do," Rylen assured them. "Last night made me realize I feel at home here. But I have some conditions."

"Like?" Abigail prompted.

"As with all of this, I'm an equal. That's not just for the fun, happy times," Rylen began slowly. "If I move in with you, I'm sharing the burdens too. Bills, dinners, groceries, errands, cleaning. I won't move in here and be a - a kept man."

Abigail smiled at him, reaching out with a hand to clasp her fingers with his. "Of course," she agreed. "I think that only makes sense, right John?"

It was to John's credit that he only seemed to war with himself for a moment, as if he wanted to protest that it wasn't necessary. But he looked at the pair across from him and nodded, the brief moment of hesitation all it took for him to agree. "As you wish. I'm sorry if I've been making you feel that way. I don't really know how to...not take full responsibility for those who are important to me."

As if he thought he'd said too much, he raised his glass and drained it before he turned away. "Well, we can - um, continue this over lunch. I'm starving."

Rylen watched for a moment as the other two began to move around the kitchen to get lunch ready. It felt right, thinking of here as home. Remembering his insistence, though, he stood and moved to the counter, intent to do what he could to help with the meal.


	12. Kindred Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: harassment and verbal abuse, mild violence

Two weeks was all it took for Rylen to fully settle in, moving the remainder of his belongings from his apartment and donating old furniture he'd no longer need. The actual moving process took one weekend, but fully settling in and making it all their home took longer.

Then one day, waking up with Rylen there and knowing he would continue to be there felt like the most natural thing in the world. When Abby suggested a nice dinner to celebrate that he had finished moving in, John couldn't help but agree that it was a wonderful idea. Her quiet confession after that she had told Rylen she loved him that morning had only brought laughter to John, prompting her to give him a quizzical frown.

"It's about time, Gorgeous," was all he told her.

She smiled and nodded, a gleam coming into her eyes. "And we made love on the kitchen counter after...almost ran late for work."

"Mmm you'll have to tell me more about that later," John had murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Permission had been given now for whenever the moment was right, John no longer feeling as if he could lose her by allowing them to be together. In fact, he found he enjoyed hearing about their times together when he wasn't with them, the stories fueling his own desire for later.

It led to him thinking all evening about the home they shared, the bed they would share that night, and getting ready for a date in the same space felt blissful. Abby had made reservations at Jolie, and he loved her romanticism, the nostalgia of going to the same restaurant as their first date.

As they sat together talking and laughing easily, he marveled over how far they had come from the nerves of that night. Now, three of them at the same table felt comfortable instead of awkward, and their request for a corner booth had helped set the mood for their date. The intimate lighting and close proximity to one another had John’s nerves in overdrive, noticing everything about the two beside him. A whiff of Abby’s perfume, the warmth of Rylen when he reached to take the bill from John, insisting that he pay.

It made John feel as if he couldn’t get them home quickly enough.

With Rylen waiting for his card to be run, John helped Abby out of the booth to get the car from the valet. She slipped her hand into his, smiling brightly as she fell into step with him. As they waited for the car, she tucked herself against him, murmuring soft words and winking when he met her gaze.

The valet pulled his car around and passed him the keys before hurrying off to help another patron. A glance behind him showed that Rylen still hadn’t joined them, and for a moment John merely dawdled, sliding his hand beneath Abby’s coat to squeeze her ass. She leaned into him, rubbing her hips against his teasingly, her fingers moving to his hand to take it back in hers. When she grabbed for him the keys in his grasp fell, and he heard a metal clatter as they hit the pavement.

"Oh - sorry," she murmured, stepping back so she could look at the ground.

John chuckled under his breath, also looking for the keys, but he couldn't see them. "Maybe they bounced under the car."

Without a word Abby held a hand between them, cupping it as she summoned magelight to her fingers. John smiled, nodding his gratitude before he knelt to look under the car.

“They should keep you locked up like the old days.”

The gruff voice came from somewhere nearby, and John glanced up, curious at whom the person was speaking. A man smoking a cigarette was glaring at Abby, pure disgust and loathing evident on his face. He flicked his cigarette toward them, scowling.

“Fucking mages just wandering around using magic, not giving a damn how dangerous they are.”

John stood, brushing his hands off on his slacks, but Abby extinguished the magelight and stepped closer to him. He opened his mouth to speak, then felt Abby’s hand on his chest.

“Don’t bother, Handsome,” she murmured, her voice shaking slightly on the words.

“Serah, if you don’t mind, my wife and I are trying to enjoy a nice evening out -” John began, but the man spat on the sidewalk in his direction.

“Wife? You actually married the cunt? Fucking mage lovers, you’re just as bad. Next you’ll be breeding her, making more of them -”

“That’s enough,” John warned, narrowing his eyes. He placed a hand on Abby’s waist, trying to guide her behind him. His heart was racing, but all he knew was that he wanted to keep her away from the man’s vitriol. If only he’d been able to actually find his keys, he could have just gotten her into the car.

“John, really, just ignore him. He’s not worth it.”

“Worth more than you, worthless mage cunt.”

“Don’t you have better things to do than harass mages? Is your life that pathetic?” Abby snapped, and John felt the prickle of magic around her as her anger spiked.

“Mages like you are the reason the country’s going to shit. Leeching off the government, lazy fucks asking for everything to be handed to you, claiming oppression whenever anyone points out how dangerous you all are -”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Abby demanded, rolling her eyes.

“Or what? Gonna make me?” The man challenged, and he took a few steps forward.

Again John tightened his hand at Abby’s waist, pulling her closer to the car. “Gorgeous, let’s just go back inside. Ignore him.”

But the man had moved so that he was blocking the path to the door, glaring menacingly at Abby. Her hand tightened in John’s, and he could feel her fingers turn icy, almost painfully so. Her nerves were fraught, the air around them buzzing, and he turned to her to try to reassure her.

“They should put mages like you down, not let you out in society, breeding with us and spreading your corruption.” The man spat in their direction again, and this time John felt the spittle on his face.

“If you don’t leave us alone, serah, I’m going to call the police,” John warned once more.

At that, the man moved closer, glaring at John instead. “Someone needs to teach you mage loving cunts a lesson -”

The air sparkled around John suddenly, the sound of traffic beyond them dampened. It had been longer than he could recall since he had seen such a powerful display of Abby's magic or since he had been in the middle of it. There had been a time when they had played with it, when she had shown him what she could do, when he had marveled and admired how easily she wove spells. But never before had he felt such relief to see one envelop him, and certainly it had never invoked this level of fear inside him.

The barrier crackled before them, blocking their harasser’s path forward. It took him a moment to register what had happened, and the dark gleam in his eye only intensified once he realized his prey had used magic to hold him off. His shouted threats seemed to come to them across a vast distance, muffled as they penetrated the barrier Abby had summoned. He was trying to find a way through, and John’s insides twisted when he realized the barrier was weakening and decaying around them.

A flurry of movement behind the man interrupted his attempts to move toward them. Rylen had charged from the restaurant, and in an instant had one of the man’s arms pinned behind his back. The man flailed, throwing his free elbow back, and he caught Rylen in the ribs, unbalancing him enough that he could spin free. He swung wildly at Rylen’s face, but Rylen dodged and countered with his own powerful punch.

The man reeled, clutching his nose, and stumbled a few paces. Rylen advanced on him and reached down, pulling him up by the lapels of his coat. As he growled in the man’s face, John noticed the barrier around them flickering more. Abby seemed to tremble beside him, the effort of keeping it active draining on her.

Rylen continued to struggle with the man, trying to pin his arms behind his back, but the man slipped out of his coat. He took a moment to regain his footing, and then turned on his heel and sprinted down the sidewalk away from them.

The buzzing in the air stopped, and the icy blue shimmer of the barrier extinguished. Abby slumped into John and he caught her, wrapping her tightly in his arms to hold her to his chest. Rylen was breathing heavily before them, and then threw the coat he held on the ground in frustration.

“Is everyone okay?” a voice called, and one of the valets ran over.

“Aye - is there security footage here?” Rylen asked, his voice strained from how he seemed to be clenching his teeth in anger.

“There is, serah,” the valet answered.

“Good. Have your manager send it to this email,” Rylen dug in his pocket for his wallet, and extracted a business card from it. “We’ll be filing charges once we identify the man.”

He bent and snatched the man’s coat from the ground, glaring in the direction he had fled for a moment before he finally turned to where John and Abby stood. There was raw fury etched on his face, a dangerous glint in his eye that amazed John, but the moment Rylen’s gaze wandered over the two of them as if assessing them, something softened on his face. Tenderness replaced violence, and in two quick strides he was before them.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and he reached a hand to cup the back of Abby’s head.

She glanced up at him, and it pained John to see the tears welling in her eyes. But she nodded her head rapidly, chewing her lip as she tried her best to hold back her emotions. “Are you?”

“Aye, I’ll be fine, once I calm down,” Rylen grumbled. He turned his gaze to John, reaching the hand that held the coat to John’s arm, gently inquiring if he was all right with the gesture.

Abby swayed and leaned into Rylen, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He clutched her to him in a one-armed embrace, bending over to press his lips to the top of her head. When he straightened he looked back to John, the tenderness more pronounced as he searched his face.

A strong mixture of emotions welled within his chest; relief, gratitude, admiration, and so many others he couldn’t name that he felt speechless. All he could think was how very thankful he was that they were all safe, that Rylen had been there for them, that he had leapt into action to protect them both. But it was more than gratitude, and as he stared into worried aqua eyes he found himself overwhelmed with a deeper, irresistible sort of impulse.

With Abby tucked between them, Rylen’s arms holding each of them to his chest, John returned the embrace and reached with one hand to the nape of Rylen’s neck. They met one another’s gaze, Rylen’s still intense in his anger and tenderness, though now a soft curiosity lingered as well. No moment of hesitation held John back, and he tilted his head up and met Rylen’s lips with his, merely longing to feel the reassuring touch of them. They were softer than he had imagined, full and surrounded by a soft prickle of stubble that tickled John's skin.

For a moment Rylen almost seemed surprised, and then his lips relaxed and parted slightly, welcoming John to deepen the kiss, but only if he wanted to. Intent to enjoy the soothing, comforting presence of Rylen’s mouth, John moved slowly, simply savoring it all. After one hesitant flick of his tongue to the tip of Rylen’s, he pulled away, noticing Abby stirring slightly between them.

“Come on, Kitten, we should get you home,” John said, and he glanced at Rylen once more, thinking perhaps the look of pleasant surprise on his face must match the one on his own. Stepping back from them, John patted his pockets and then remembered the keys were still somewhere on the ground. He turned to look for the valets, and when he spotted one asked for their assistance.

As soon as his keys were in hand, he unlocked the car and opened the back door. “Here, Abby, get in with Rylen. I’ll drive you home.”

She nodded silently, and Rylen helped her into the car before climbing in after her. John quickly got into the driver’s seat, locking the car and pulling into traffic the moment he was able. Glancing in the rear-view mirror showed Abby cradled in Rylen’s lap, and he was stroking her hair gently with one hand. When he met John’s gaze in the mirror, he gave a small, reassuring smile and nod of his head.

The drive back to the penthouse was silent, and once he had parked John hopped out of the car to help open the door for them. Rylen easily took Abby into his arms and carried her to the lifts, holding her as the precious burden she was to both men. There was no weary strain in how he held her the entire ride up, and John opened the doors as they went so that they could get her inside quickly.

Rylen crossed the dark penthouse to the stairs and John followed, flipping the lights on in the bedroom so that Abby didn't exhaust herself further to light the lamps. He knew her mana was likely drained, since she rarely had to use magic in such a prolonged fashion in her everyday life.

After laying her on the bed, they both worked to remove her shoes and her clothes, stripping her down to her lingerie. Rylen toed his shoes off and shrugged out of his suit jacket before he clambered onto the bed as well. He pulled Abby into his arms, cradling her and tucking her into the blankets.

"I'm going to grab her something to drink, it might help," John murmured. He hurried from the room to seek out the decanter of Mackay's in the kitchen to pour her a large amount.

As he reentered the bedroom, glass in hand, he heard soft murmurs.

"Thank you, Ry."

"You don't have to thank me, lass," Rylen assured her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he brushed her hair off of it. "I was protecting what's mine. Both of you."

"Here, Abby," John muttered, and he placed a hand reassuringly on her back to get her attention. He held the glass out to her when she looked over her shoulder at him, and she pushed herself up so she could drink from it.

As she drank, Rylen scooted to the edge of the bed so that he could remove the rest of his clothes. Once he was down to his underwear he resumed his place beside Abby, raising his eyebrows as she drained the glass of Mackay's in only a few gulps.

"Feeling all right, lass?"

"I just want to - calm down," she mumbled. She snuggled back against him as soon as he reclined on the pillows, continually shifting as if she couldn't get close enough to him.

John felt assured she was in good hands, and after he set her glass aside he began to strip out of his clothes as well. When he paused beside the bed in hesitation, Rylen smirked and held an arm out in invitation.

Hardly a moment passed before John accepted, taking his place on the opposite side from Abby. He tucked himself against Rylen's side, and nestled into his warm embrace, head on his shoulder.

"You all right, John?" Rylen murmured.

"Yes, I think I am now," he answered softly. "I didn't even think to ask - your hand, do you need ice?"

"No, mate, I'm fine for now," Rylen assured him. "Let's just take care of her."

They fell into a comfortable silence, and soon Abby's breathing deepened as she began to slip into sleep. Finally Rylen began to stroke his hand along John's arm and peered down at him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered. His tone was gentle, as if making certain John felt zero pressure from his words.

"I - um, I'm not certain what to say or where to begin." John sighed, and found his hand reaching for where Abby's rested on Rylen's chest. His knee he hooked over Rylen's leg, allowing himself to settle into how comfortable they all were.

"We don't have to, I just thought I would offer," Rylen told him after a moment. "For what it's worth - I'm glad you did it. I've felt something between us for a while."

"It took me far longer to realize it," John confessed. "I've never - I'm not...um," he trailed off, uncertain how to even begin to grapple with everything he felt.

"Aye, our lass mentioned you hadn't ever - accepted that part of yourself?"

"She - she said that? She knew?"

"She's a smart lass, are you surprised?"

John chuckled softly once the surprise wore off, realizing that it actually made perfect sense. He glanced up at Rylen, feeling his cheeks heat when he immediately met a tender look in the other man's eyes.

"I suppose not," he conceded. "I just - I didn't know what to make of it. I - I haven't felt this in - two decades, probably."

"Well, even if it's not tonight, if you need to talk about it I'm all ears," Rylen assured him. He took a moment to check on Abby, brushing her hair off her face.

The sound of his voice was so soothing, and John actually felt himself wanting to talk. "I had a - close friend, when I was attending university. For a long time I assumed it was just friendship, that he was a brother to me. But there were moments - I found myself wishing perhaps…"

He found himself trailing off, remembering. Rylen squeezed his shoulder lightly, stroking John again with his hand, as if he understood.

"But it was Tevinter, and I was the eldest. There were expectations, even if I was a soporatus. Carrying on the family name and bloodline took precedence," he explained. "The Imperium is progressive in many aspects, but that's one they're almost primitive about. I wanted to pursue my own happiness, but I felt too much duty. I already felt I had disappointed my family because I wasn't a mage, and so when I met Constance, I...I let my own desires fall aside."

"I'm sorry," Rylen murmured. "I suppose in that regard I was lucky. No one really cares who you're fucking in the Templars or Marches so long as you do your job."

"Meeting Abby was the best thing that ever happened to me," John asserted. He took a deep breath before continuing. "But when she brought you into our lives, I - perhaps I understand how she feels. You've awoken something in me that I didn't know I was missing, that I didn't realize I longed for. Not as if she was lacking, but as if you're - a piece I needed."

A contented smile tugged at Rylen’s mouth, and he squeezed his arm around John’s shoulder, settling him more intimately against him. “Aye, I understand, mate. I never thought I could feel this way about one person, let alone two. But both of you...Maker, I’m thankful you’re both all right, tonight.”

The confession felt like the one Rylen hadn’t meant to say, but John accepted it for what it was. They shifted closer to one another, Rylen pulling Abby with him as he did, but she stirred and awakened.

“Sorry, lass,” Rylen muttered.

“I - can I slip between you two?” she murmured softly. “I’m...scared of the Fade.”

“Come here, Kitten,” John purred, holding one arm up to invite her into his embrace. She crawled over Rylen and slipped between them, nestling herself into their combined warmth.

“Thank you,” she sighed, and tried her best to settle back into sleep.

After several moments spent in silence, both of them making certain to surround Abby with their reassuring presence, Rylen glanced aside at John. “Listen, mate - I understand if this is a lot. Don’t worry, I can be patient.”

The wink he gave excited John, the words soothing him even as his heart raced. There was such a placating tone in his voice, such an understanding that John felt as if he could bare his entire soul and it would be accepted in its entirety. His impulses and feelings were similar to how he had relaxed around Abby at the start, as if he knew he had found a kindred soul to embrace him.

Cradling Abby in his arms and taking Rylen’s fingers in his, John relaxed into holding both of them to him, eternally grateful that he had found them.


	13. When You Move Honey, I'm Put in Awe of Somethin' so Flawed and Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken from ["Movement" by Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OSye8OO5TkM).

“So - are you two dating now?”

Across the table from her, Rylen smirked, shaking his head as he stabbed at his salad with his fork. Abby reached for her water, taking a sip as she regarded him. He chewed slowly, looking around the restaurant as he did. He wasn’t avoiding her, she knew he was merely thinking. Or perhaps he was also remembering that morning, when John had pulled him into an embrace to say goodbye before they all parted for work.

“You know as much as I do, lass,” he finally answered.

“True, I suppose you two haven’t really had a chance to talk about it,” she agreed. “But would you - like to be?”

Rylen considered for a moment, taking another bite of salad before he sat back in his chair. “I can’t tell what he wants.”

“So you two just need to talk about it. But I’m asking you, Ry. What do you want?”

He glanced sidelong at her before he nodded. “Aye, lass. I would like to be with him.”

“Then you should tell him that. He appreciates honesty, and I know you do too. Maybe you guys can talk over dinner tonight.” She took another sip of water, letting her gaze wander over the small café.

“You don’t think I’d be pushing for too much?”

“You won’t know unless you talk to him,” she pointed out. “And you need to address what happened -”

“We talked about it some, after you fell asleep,” he interjected. “He told me about a friend he’d had in university, the last time he felt like this.”

“Really? He’d - he’d never mentioned him to me,” Abby murmured. But a wide smile broke across her face at the thought of John feeling comfortable enough to tell Rylen something so personal.

“Said he had to choose duty over figuring out what his feelings were,” Rylen said.

“Constance?” Abby speculated, and Rylen nodded confirmation. “Poor John...his whole life he’s had to sacrifice, just because he wasn’t born a mage. Sometimes I wish he’d been born somewhere else - even Orlais or something.”

Rylen chuckled and set his fork down. “Aye, but we can’t change the past.”

“True. Plus then he wouldn’t be John, not as I love him,” she let out a soft sigh.

“Are you all right today, lass?”

The question caught her off guard, and she glanced across the table at him, only to catch him watching her intently.

“I’m fine."

“Lass, it’s just us,” he assured her, and he reached across the table to take her hand in his. “You can tell me if you’re not.”

“Thank you, Ry, but really, I’m fine,” she insisted. When he raised an eyebrow at her she looked away, but squeezed his fingers with hers. “Amatus, please. I’d rather forget about it.”

“You don’t have to. Besides, I went this morning and got the security footage from the restaurant. I’ll run it through facial recognition, see if maybe the arse has a record -”

“Please, Ry, just drop it,” she interrupted, and hated the way her voice shook. Taking a steadying breath she pulled her hand from his and reached instead for her water. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself. I don’t want to press charges -”

“Abigail, the man tried to attack you.” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes when she met them, his face twisted into a dark scowl. “Plenty of witnesses saw, if we find him it’d be easy to pursue -”

“But I don’t want to,” she insisted. “I’d rather just forget about it, just drop it. John and I are fine, we’re...we’re all fine.”

Abby glanced down at the bruises on Rylen’s fist, the slight swelling from the punch he had thrown at her attacker. After a furtive look around to make certain no one was paying attention to them, she reached out to rest her hand over his knuckles. Subtly, the way she had mastered in the Imperium, she channeled her magic into his injuries to heal.

“I - l-lass,” he stuttered, letting his eyes close for a moment as a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“Sorry, should I have asked first?”

“No, I just - I haven’t had healing magic used in ages. And yours feels...wonderful.”

She giggled at the gleam in his eyes, the anger replaced by a hint of tender love and passion. “I should have done it sooner, but I was exhausted last night.”

“Aye, I know,” he said, and he shook his head as he frowned once more. “Please, lass. Let me pursue this. I can’t stand the thought of him getting away with it. If he had hurt you - either of you - I don’t know what I would have done…”

“Ry, I just...I don’t want to draw even more attention to myself. And pressing charges would, I mean -”

“More attention? Abigail, did - did something happen?”

Realizing she had slipped, she heaved a sigh and sat back, crossing her arms and legs. But she couldn’t avoid the concern in his eyes, and after a moment resigned herself to telling him. She slipped a hand into her purse and removed an envelope, carefully handing it over to him.

“I got this this morning. I’ve gotten emails and calls before, but somehow getting an actual letter felt - worse,” she muttered.

Rylen withdrew the letter, doing his best not to touch it too much, and she realized he would likely insist on taking it with him, dusting for fingerprints. It immediately made her regret showing him.

As he read over the letter his scowl darkened, a look of fury similar to the one from the previous evening coming upon his normally jovial, roguish features. When he was done reading it he set it down, his hand balling into a fist, which he rested shakily against his lips as if trying to steady himself.

“Ry -”

“Why haven’t you told me before now that you’ve been getting death threats?” he growled.

She shrugged. “It comes with the job. I’m used to it.”

“Lass, this person, they know where to find you, how to contact you -”

“Everyone does. I write rather publicly for The Herald, after all.”

“After last night, how can you be so - nonchalant? Blast it, lass, you could be in danger.”

“I knew I could be when I took the job,” she pointed out. Heaving a sigh she glanced away from the sight of his righteous anger, his protective glare, and tightened how she held her arms. “Even without being open about my status as a mage, I knew my articles would draw ire, especially here. It’s why I write under my maiden name, to protect John. And why I’m not very keen on pressing charges about last night.”

“Don’t be daft. What if they’re related? What if someone harms you, Abigail?” He leaned forward, his tone low and pleading. “I’d never forgive myself - John would never forgive himself. Please, lass.”

“But pressing charges would - make it easier to find out about me,” she murmured.

“Let me protect you. Your man and I -”

“Our man?” she teased, unable to resist.

A tiny smirk threatened to cross Rylen’s face, but he quickly shook his head and tried to keep the scowl on his face. “We’ll do everything we can. But you shouldn’t let him get away with it, shouldn’t let him continue to harass mages. What if next time he actually hurts someone?”

Abby bit her lip, glancing away as she considered his words. He was right, she knew he was, but the honest and shameful truth was that she was terrified. For once she had actually asked Rylen to pick her up from the office for their lunch date instead of walking and meeting him as she always did. The memories of pure hatred on a stranger’s face, the fear that he could have hurt her or John, had distracted her all morning.

And receiving a death threat in the mail for one of her articles had done little to alleviate the way she felt as if she was walking around with a target on her back.

“Give me some time, Ry,” she pleaded. “I’m - I’m so scared. I don’t want to make things worse. What if it becomes a news story? What if my name gets leaked as the mage who was attacked outside Jolie for just - just trying to find her husband’s c-car keys with some m-magelight…”

Her voice cracked and she trailed off. In the Imperium, it would have been a completely normal sight, and no one would have said anything. She hadn’t even thought about it when she had done it, it had simply been a reflex. Now, she didn’t feel safe in her own skin.

Rylen sat forward, taking one of her hands in his much larger, warmer fingers. He raised it to his lips, letting the kiss linger on her knuckles before he pressed a few more to her fingers.

“Lass - my lass, my love,” he murmured. “I only want to protect you. You're mine, Abigail. I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

She nodded when he glanced up, such a gentle look in his bright eyes that she almost felt hers well with tears. “I love you too, Ry.”

“Let me keep looking in to it, but I’ll - I’ll do it discreetly. Only my partner will know your name, and trust me, lass - he’s a good man. We’ll see what we can find, and then I’ll let you decide if we press charges. All right?”

Abby considered for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, Ry. Just promise - it’s my decision.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I promise, lass.”

“Thank you. I - I feel better.”

He offered a smile and kissed her knuckles again before he released her hand. Glancing down at the letter he had set beside his plate, he frowned and lifted it. “Can I hold onto this, lass?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Not like I want to frame it or anything.”

Rylen chuckled softly as he folded the letter and the envelope and slipped it into his pocket. Holding up his wrist he checked the time, and then looked over their plates. “Are you done, Abigail? I should head back to work.”

“C-can you drop me off, first?”

He met her gaze and nodded. “Of course.”

After paying for their meal, Rylen helped her to her feet and took her hand in his to escort her from the café to his car. He had gotten used to the new SUV, and no longer scowled when he looked at it. The change in his demeanor made her smile, and she remembered the night before.

Her mana had been drained, exhaustion tugging at her until she wondered if she would collapse and fall asleep there on the sidewalk. Yet supported between Rylen and John’s chests, their arms around her, she had felt her husband lean up to press his lips to her lover’s. The sight had been surprising, but she realized it was only because she had assumed that of the two of them Rylen would be the one to make the first move.

Better than that had been sleeping comfortably between them, the way they relaxed into the cuddling now, not stiff and trying to give one another space as they held her. As she had slipped back into the Fade she was aware of them holding hands as well as her, and a vague notion that it had felt _right_ had come upon her.

Now she watched as Rylen carefully navigated traffic the few blocks to her office building, and reached over to take his hand in hers. He pulled into a parking space in The Herald’s lot, and once the car was in park she released her seatbelt to lean across the center console.

“Thank you for lunch,” she purred. 

“Of course, love,” he murmured. He let go of her hand and instead snaked his fingers into her hair to pull her to him. 

The kiss was slow, his mouth devouring hers until she felt breathless. Unable to resist she slipped her hand to his crotch and palmed his cock through his slacks, giggling into his mouth when she felt him hardening beneath her touch.

“Not fair, lass,” he chided, and he tightened his grasp on her hair to tug her back from their kiss.

“Just want to give you something to look forward to tonight.”

“I always look forward to you,” he breathed. He returned his lips to hers, kissing her with more intensity, his teeth catching her bottom lip roughly to bite.

“Ah! Ry - now who’s not being fair?”

“You started it.”

Abby moaned as she kissed him again, taking up a slow, teasing dance with his tongue. She pulled away after a moment, staying close enough that she could feel his warm breath. “I have plenty of ideas about tonight…”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Nope,” she giggled at the frustrated look on his face, “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I fell in love with a temptress,” he grumbled. “I thought I’d been a good lad, I’m not certain what I did to deserve such cruelty.”

Despite his exasperated tone, a bright smile came upon him. He chuckled before he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

“You should get back to work,” she sighed once he released her.

“Aye, sadly. But I’ll see you for dinner, Abigail.”

“Yes, amatus.” 

She kissed his cheek and gave him a smile before she gathered her jacket and purse so that she could slip out of the car. A fleeting swat on her rear made her squeal, and she turned to see Rylen smirking at her, leaning across the front seat so that he could reach her.

“Later, lass.”

She scrunched her nose at him as she closed the door, and could hear his laughter through the window when she turned away. As she walked toward the front door, a familiar voice called out to her.

“Hey, Snazzy, wait up!” Varric called, and he jogged a few steps from his beloved sports car Bianca to catch up to her. With a curious look on his face, he glanced at Rylen backing out of the parking spot. “So, hot lunch date?”

Abby faltered in her steps, glancing back at Rylen as well. “Um -”

“Sorry, not trying to put you on the spot or anything. Just wanted to ask what story you were working on.”

“Oh.” Abby cleared her throat and pulled the strap of her purse higher up on her shoulder. “Uh, was just meeting with a detective about - about -”

“Oh, so he’s a detective? Nice catch.”

“Varric, if you want to say something, just say it.”

“Well, I know your focus is more serious, but I was thinking,” he began slowly, as if weighing his words. “Our lifestyle section could always use something more modern than lists of best first date spots in Kirkwall. If you have a new...arrangement...with your husband -”

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I just mean - if you two opened your marriage it’d be a more interesting piece than ‘What date spot in Kirkwall can tell your boyfriend you’re ready for the next step.’”

Despite herself Abby giggled and shook her head. They had entered their building and now stood waiting for the lift, and she looked around to see if anyone else was close enough to hear.

“Listen, not that it’s any of your business, but it’s not an open marriage.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened. “Well, secret’s safe with me -”

“It’s not an affair either, nosy,” she scolded.

“Hey, I just wanted to offer you a break from writing about the shitshow happening in Parliament and with the PD.” Varric held up his hands plaintively, chuckling as he did. “But you’re right, it’s none of my business. Unless you _do_ feel like writing a fluff piece about - whatever your situation is.”

“As fascinated as I’m sure our readers would be with a real life instance of polyamory,” Abby grumbled. “I think I’m at my limit for death threats at the moment.”

“Well, shit, Snazzy - another one?”

Abby stepped onto the lift as the doors opened and punched the number for their floor. “Yeah, but this time it was an actual letter.”

“Maker’s balls, you’d think people had better things to do with their time,” Varric grumbled. “I doubt writing about polyamory would draw quite as much ire, if you need a break.”

“Really? You don’t think some of those devout, crazy Chantry types wouldn’t get up in arms? Something, something, ‘the sanctity of marriage?’” Abby did air quotes as she said it. “As if welcoming another man into our marriage somehow ruins any of it, especially for other people.”

Varric chuckled again. “At least this means John will still be at the next holiday party,” he mused. They left the lift together and walked across the floor to their desks. "I was hoping this didn't mean I wouldn't see him again."

Abby gave him a wry smile as they stopped walking beside his desk. “Sure you were,” she teased dryly. “You’re only saying that because he’s your fan.”

“I can root for someone’s marriage for selfish reasons,” he defended himself. “Otherwise who else will spend a whole party talking with me about _Hard in Hightown_?”

Rolling her eyes, Abby walked away and sought out her workspace. She sat in her chair and turned her computer on, but her mind continued to wander. Her thoughts wanted to focus on a million different things, branching and swirling as she remembered the night before, the good and the bad. She wished she could merely think about what she had seen between John and Rylen, of the conversation she wanted them to have, of the suggestion she was trying to work up her nerve for that evening. But it was only one of many things on her mind.

Before she knew it, the rest of her day had passed, and she had little work to show for it. Her thoughts had never settled, and with a sigh she admitted defeat, then grabbed her purse and hurried from the office to head home. She stopped at the corner market on her way, picking up some wine and cheese for the dinner she had planned.

To her surprise John and Rylen weren’t far behind her tonight, and as she worked in front of the stove they made themselves comfortable at the counter island. John poured them all wine, and when he handed Rylen his glass they both turned as if to kiss one another on the cheek.

Instead, they landed a quick peck on each other’s lips.

“Oh - I -”

“Er -”

“Really, you two,” Abby commented, giggling as she stirred the sauce she was working on. “Dinner will still be a few minutes, why don’t you talk.”

“Um,” John hummed, and he drained half of his wine in one gulp.

“No, she’s right mate. I know we talked some last night, but - it’d be best to get this all out in the open.”

John fidgeted with the glass he held and reached up to tug at the knot of his tie, loosening it as he thought.

“I could start you two off by reassuring you I think it’s great,” Abby offered, smiling at them over her shoulder.

Rylen smiled in return and then glanced at John, who was frowning slightly. The sight seemed to deflate Rylen, and he looked to Abby as if for guidance.

“D-do you regret it now, mate?” he asked softly.

“No, I don’t,” John answered quickly. But then he sighed and turned his head to look away from both of them. “I don’t want to ruin things, though. If we try and fall apart...I don’t want to risk what you two have. How things stand right now is - is fine.”

“John, this whole thing has been a risk,” Abby pointed out. “We talked about that before we asked him to move in with us.”

“Aye, any new relationship is a risk,” Rylen added. “I don’t want to hold back our feelings, I think - I think that would make everything worse.”

John continued in silence, staring into the deep red wine in his glass. “This is different. You two are settled, but this - it would be new, and we’re already living together -”

“You two have known each other for months. You’ve been in bed together and slept beside one another,” Abby said, trying to keep the conversation going. “What if you two went on dates, just the two of you? See how things go when I’m not there too?”

“I’d be willing,” Rylen offered. “And I - I meant what I said, about taking it slow. Or quickly. However you want to handle it, I’ll follow your lead.”

John looked between them as if thinking, then finished the rest of his wine. “I hate having to admit that I’m - terrified of ruining things.”

“You’re only human, Handsome,” Abby assured him. “We just all need to remember what we promised. If we keep being honest and open, like we have been, then we can take anything that comes our way.”

Rylen met her gaze and smiled at her, then gave a quick wink before he looked back to John. “I agree. Why don’t you and I meet for lunch, go to dinner, act like - like we’re dating, instead of whatever we’re doing right now.” He reached for John’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I happen to think I can be quite romantic. Who knows - you might just find yourself swept off your feet.”

John chuckled, and Abby watched as he began to stroke his thumb along Rylen’s. “All right. I’m willing to take a few risks.”

In response Rylen leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Before he could lean back John turned his head, capturing his lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

Dinner was a pleasant affair, as it always was, and neither man seemed to act as if there had been a great change between them. Rylen joked, John charmed, and Abby felt like the luckiest woman alive. Their presence and flirtations helped her shake the fear that had gripped her all day.

Instead she found a subtle kind of anxiety take its place, an excited apprehension making her insides twist and her heart race. To help steady her nerves she had more wine, knowing that it was time and she was ready.

When they had all cleaned up the dishes, they made their way upstairs to relax. And, Abby knew, unwind as they always did when they were all together.

As Rylen and John slipped out of their work clothes, Abby watched hungrily, feeling her confidence come back. For months now Rylen had teased her, had been patient as he had said he would be. Yet that patience had led to him waiting for her to ask for more instead of taking charge.

Tonight, she wanted more.

She walked behind where he stood before his dresser and wrapped her arms around him, trailing her fingers down his chest as she pressed kisses to his back. His muscles flexed beneath her touch, and he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Hello, lass," he purred, and he turned in her arms to face her.

As he leaned down to kiss her, she smiled. "Ry, I want you."

"Aye, I want you too."

"No, amatus, I want - I'm ready for more," she told him, holding his gaze. She hoped he knew what she meant, unable to bring herself to make it crass. It felt too pure, in a way, too intimate to vocalize. He had made her yearn for it, had lived up to his promise to only ever make her feel pleasure.

"I see," he breathed, and he brushed his lips against hers. "I'd be happy to oblige, Abigail."

Her heart fluttered and she circled her arms around his neck, bringing him down for a slow kiss. Another set of hands ran along her back, and she felt John undo the zipper of her skirt. When she pulled away from the kiss, she looked over her shoulder and met piercing grey eyes.

"This should be fun," John murmured. He leaned down to kiss her, his lips moving both reassuringly and possessively against hers. "Just be a good little Kitten and be loud, hm?"

She nodded eagerly, her slight nerves making her giggle. With the two of them, she wasn't certain she knew how to be anything but loud, but she loved hearing him request it all the same.

Slowly they stripped her bare, pressing kisses to every inch of her as they did. Once she was naked John led her to the bed, guiding her back onto it before he joined her. Rylen stretched over her, and John settled beside her, their hands and mouths wandering and caressing her until she was trembling with excitement.

Rylen left a trail of kisses as he shifted down her body, spreading her legs and taking his place between them. With his hands beneath her hips he tilted her until she was fully exposed to him, and John's hands joined the effort to keep her in place.

The sensation of Rylen's tongue on the small, puckered flesh was familiar by now, but she let out a soft moan as he began to flick and swirl it along her. As her cries grew in frequency and intensity, he slid his tongue into her, breaching her with its wet warmth. A shiver passed through her, and John leaned over to catch her bottom lip with his teeth. He released one of her thighs, instead reaching to stroke her clit with his practiced fingers.

Rylen raised his mouth after several long moments and replaced his tongue with a finger. Slowly he slid it into her and pumped it, curling it deep within her before he added a second. When she called out his name he increased his efforts for a moment, and then removed himself from her. He stood from the bed and finished removing his clothes before he crossed to the nightstand. Once he'd acquired the bottle of lube he returned, and his touch was gentle as he spread some along her.

"Do I need a condom?" He asked her, but she quickly shook her head.

"I want to feel you," she whispered. Heat crept up her neck, but she swallowed and glanced up at John. He nodded and continued his steady rhythm with his fingers against her.

Rylen shifted her hips slightly, angling her before he pressed his tip between her round cheeks. She held his gaze, noticing how carefully he watched her as he slowly slid into her. Gasping at the feeling, she arched off the bed as he filled her, and his fingers gripped her thighs where he held them as he moaned.

"Maker," he groaned, clenching his eyes shut for a moment. He took a deep breath, his knuckles almost white from how tightly he was holding onto her.

John slid his fingers into her slick wetness, and she felt him press her inner walls as if exploring the feeling of Rylen within her. It seemed to encourage Rylen to move, and slowly he began to thrust into her.

He was moving so gently, and she knew he was still watching her for her reaction, making certain he wasn't causing her pain. She moaned his name to assure him, and marveled at how desperate she sounded. Losing herself in the feeling of him taking her as no one else had, she was almost overwhelmed, mewling every time he went deep within her. It was too much, the combined fullness of John's eager fingers and Rylen within her, and she grasped at them both in an attempt to steady herself.

John pulled away and removed the remainder of his clothing before he laid back beside her, though he placed his hips near her. Eagerly she turned her face toward him, understanding what he wanted and desperate to taste him. She took his tip between her lips, sucking and licking it as she felt his fingers return to her.

To her surprise he leaned over her hips, and he ran his flattened tongue over her clit in sync with Rylen's thrusts. When she glanced at them both working between her legs she saw Rylen move one hand to John's back, rubbing it lightly before he trailed his fingers through his hair. John moved the hand of the arm that braced him, and reached for where he could hold Rylen's leg.

She could feel Rylen's pace stuttering and knew he was getting close, well aware that he likely couldn't last long because of how tight she must be. He had spent months now playing with her, had bought her slightly larger plugs to ease her into it, but nothing he'd done could compare to this. John increased his efforts, swirling his tongue on her, and as she felt herself tense and begin to arch off the bed Rylen moaned and gave a startled cry of her name. She felt him fill her, savoring the wet heat of his climax for the first time.

When they both stilled, John raised his mouth and smiled at her. Rylen carefully pulled himself from her, staring at where she could feel his spend leaking out of her. He fell on the bed beside her, chuckling weakly as he ran a hand over his face.

John sat up and rolled her to her stomach, straddling her hips as he took himself in hand. Gently he slid himself into her wetness, giving his attention to where his fingers had stroked her as Rylen made love to her. She moaned and buried her face in the pillow, amazed that she still felt the need for more.

They left her insatiable, no matter how much they gave, and she felt a wanton shame at how eagerly she began to rock her hips against his. He increased his pace and moved one hand from her hips so that he could slip his thumb into her as well. As if feeling the evidence of where Rylen had been excited him, he moaned and began to snap his hips into hers with greater force.

Just as she began to beg for more he lost himself, thrusting deep and holding still as he filled her. She pouted against the pillow, an unbidden groan of frustration leaving her. John collapsed onto her back, removing his finger and crushing her against him with both arms.

"Sorry, Kitten," he murmured into her ear. "You just - that was - watching you two was almost too much."

“I’ll make you make it up to me later,” she told him, and rolled her head on the pillow so she could look at them over her shoulder. They were both smiling, and Rylen was gently caressing her back, and then ran his hand along John’s arm.

“Gladly,” John promised, and he pressed a tender kiss to her cheek.


	14. Just a Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've thrown a few tags onto this - dirty talk (which, with these three, how did I forget it?) and switching. I've hinted at it some, but Rylen is a switch and I realized I should go ahead and tag for it since moving forward there will be some switching and dom/sub play between all three of them.

“Well, dinner was - wonderful.” John flipped the lightswitch in the entryway as he said it, and Rylen followed him in.

 “Aye, I had fun,” he agreed, rolling his sleeves up so that he could get comfortable now that they were home.

Abigail had texted them earlier in the day that she had to work late to meet her deadline, and Rylen had seen the opportunity to share a dinner date. Just the two of them. The amusing part was the text he had received just as he sent his, a similar request from John that he must have typed in the same time it had taken Rylen. It had been weeks since their talk, and they had been meeting for lunch often, whether just the two or all three of them. But it had felt time to make this feel more like a date, and he had been pleased he wasn't the only one to think so.

“Normally this is the part where one of us would - kiss the other good night and promise to call,” John mused. He put his hands in his pockets and looked between the kitchen and living room as if thinking.

“Aye, so it would be,” Rylen agreed again. 

He frowned slightly as he watched John standing seemingly at a loss. It was so unusual to see in the other man, but he had noticed it frequently now when they were alone together. Still he continued to allow John to come to him, careful not to press him for anything or put him out of his comfort zone.

Interestingly enough, it almost seemed as if John was holding back at times, and watching him now he wondered if this was one of those times. The slightest shift in how he stood, as if he was going to take steps towards Rylen; the way he opened and closed his mouth, as if to speak; a furtive glance before he quickly looked away. Yet only rarely did he approach Rylen for a kiss, still seeming content to merely kiss him and perhaps hold him after they were in bed with their lass.

At this rate, Rylen wondered how long it would take for John to approach him for more. It only intrigued him because he knew the way he watched him, had seen the times he had clearly been aroused by the sight of Rylen’s naked body or the things Abigail was doing to him. More than once he had considered being blunt and telling the man he could ask for more from him, but he worried that could be off-putting.

John was used to making the first move, that was clear. Always in control, content when he was running the show, never letting anyone see anything less than him carefully composed and in charge. There were hints of his composure slipping in bed, times when his passion clearly broke through his mask of meticulous control. It had been happening more often lately, since they had begun ‘dating’ and had expressed their feelings, as if John was having to work harder to maintain his grasp on his self-command.

Rylen didn’t want to push him out of his comfort zone, but he also didn’t mind seeing what would happen if John was desperate, at someone else’s mercy. He was beginning to think he’d have to make a move, slow and careful, if they ever wanted to see if this could be more than what it was. John was too hesitant, too careful, as if he wasn’t certain what role he should play.

Luckily for Rylen, he’d never cared about which role he played - only how he could make his partner feel in the one they needed him to take on in that moment.

“Well, if you’d like we can just watch something,” Rylen offered slowly. “But I’m going up to change. Sick of wearing a tie.”

John nodded for a moment as if considering, and then grinned. “That’s not a bad plan,” he said. “Abby should be along in a bit, now.”

And there it was, the subtle hint he hadn’t known he needed. John wanted something to happen, but for the time being still sought out the comfort of their arrangement. Rylen smirked to himself as he led the way to the bedroom, tugging at his tie as he tried to think through everything.

He was down to his undershirt and boxer briefs before he glanced to where John was standing before his dresser, carefully placing his cufflinks in his valet. When Rylen caught a covert look in his direction, he chuckled. “See something you like, John?”

John cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I - uh…”

Rylen pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside before he slowly sauntered to stand beside the other man. “You’re not the only one,” he murmured, and he reached a hand to cup John’s cheek, gently turning it so he could look at him.

He watched as grey eyes wandered over him before slowly dragging up to meet his gaze. It had happened so slowly, or maybe so quickly, that Rylen didn’t even know when he had realized he cared for his lass’ husband. But what had started as simply recognition of attraction had evolved until he knew that even this risk was worth taking, just as it had been with her.

Slowly he leaned froward and pressed his lips to John’s, capturing them in a kiss much as they usually did. John stood rigid for a moment, and then gradually he began to melt into Rylen’s arms. He moved so as to reassure him, even though he knew where he wanted to lead this, what he wanted to do to convince John to let this become more.

When their kiss became more heated, Rylen slid his hand into incredibly soft white strands and tugged gently. “Do you always have to be so in control?” he challenged in a whisper.

“I - I always have been,” John replied. He was breathless, and his hands were almost hesitantly grasping Rylen’s back. When Rylen stepped closer, though, he felt the press of John’s arousal through the man’s slacks.

“What if you let someone else lead for a change?” Rylen suggested. “You might find it - freeing.”

John’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but before he could say anything Rylen had pulled him back into a searing kiss. The hands that held him tightened on his hips, and Rylen slowly began to guide him back to the bed. With a muffled gasp they fell onto it, Rylen easily pinning John beneath him as he continued his trail of kisses, nipping at his lover’s neck as he drank in the scent of citrus and cloves that clung to him.

“Rylen,” John murmured.

“Too much?” Rylen asked, raising his head so that he could search John’s gaze to see if he was all right. “Tell me to stop, and I -”

“No,” John interjected, almost too eagerly.

Rylen smirked and returned his mouth to the column of John’s throat, lavishing it with attention before he finally began to shift lower on the bed. John hadn’t undressed except for his suit jacket and shoes, and somehow Rylen was excited by the idea of making him disheveled, of disrupting his careful composure.

Pulling eagerly at John’s tie, he loosened it until it slipped free of its knot, leaving it around his neck as he turned his focus to his shirt. Rylen undid the buttons, pushing it open so that he could slide his undershirt up his chest. He pressed hot kisses to the now exposed flesh as he continued to move lower, and he stopped his trail of kisses above the waist of his slacks.

As Rylen laved his tongue along John’s flexing stomach, he undid the belt and buttons keeping him from progressing further. The panting gasps and moans that were meeting his attention had him looking forward to seeing how much further he could cause the man’s control to come undone.

When he had him freed from his slacks, Rylen took a moment to ghost his fist up John’s length, paying close attention to how he shuddered. Months spent admiring John as he watched him take Abigail, but he’d never actually felt him, and he let himself savor this first time. He continued sucking gently at the tight skin around John’s hips, teasing him with his hand as he slowly inched his lips closer to his cock.

John was already panting, one hand pressed to his forehead as he lightly thrust his hips up, silently begging for more of Rylen’s attentions. Firmly Rylen held him still, intent on moving slowly and making John accept that this was one time he wasn’t in command. He glanced up to see John groaning, eyes clenched shut, and the sight of him so rumpled as he reclined on the pillows excited Rylen to no end.

With one languid stroke he ran his tongue from the base to the tip of John’s cock, feeling his own throb as John let out a loud moan. Rylen flicked his tongue over the tip of him, catching the small bead of excitement already leaking in response to his teasing attentions. As he closed his lips around him, he used his hand to gently pull back the foreskin to expose more of the tip to his tongue. John let out a muffled curse, and encouraged by it Rylen slid his mouth further down.

For several long moments he merely found his rhythm, bobbing his head steadily to slide more and more of John’s cock down his throat. It wasn’t long before he was managing all of it each time, his fingers lightly caressing and tugging at John’s balls as he sucked him. He could feel the cock tightening in his mouth, taste more salty excitement on his tongue when he pulled back to swirl it around the tip. Another glance up at John showed him groaning with even more desperation, and he frequently raised his head to watch as Rylen easily slid him back down his throat.

“R-Rylen, I’m -” he cut off in a sharp gasp, “close.”

But he had already been able to tell, and was trying to time how he bobbed his head with his hand stroking along John’s shaft. When he felt him throb on his tongue, he pulled his mouth away and increased the speed of his hand. A low moan left John as he shuddered again, his spend hitting his exposed abdomen in brief spurts.

Chuckling, Rylen watched as John stilled, his breaths coming to him in deep pants. Rylen stretched over him once more, waiting until he opened his eyes. When their gazes met, Rylen dipped a finger in the white fluid glistening on John’s stomach and held it up to his lips to taste.

“You made a mess of yourself,” he teased, his eyes roaming over the flustered and disheveled appearance of his lover beneath him. It was just what he had wanted to see, the sight of him spent and unkempt, no longer the composed lawyer and nobleman. Instead he was a human, a man, and Rylen had been the one to reveal this side of him.

In response John merely reached a hand up to tangle in Rylen’s waves, pulling him down to crush their mouths together. They lost themselves in the searing kiss, until at last John released his tight grip on Rylen’s hair.

“Was that all right?” Rylen asked, lightly running his thumb over John’s lips.

“That was - I - I’m glad you did it,” John answered.

“Aye, clearly,” Rylen quipped with a pointed glance down at the sticky release on John's skin. “I just mean - I know you’ve seemed hesitant, I just thought maybe a little push -”

“I needed a push, I think,” John admitted. He smirked and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I was nervous. I’ve been having sex for more than half my life, but this was - I was at a - a disadvantage.”

“You saw how patient I’ve been with Abigail,” Rylen reminded him. “She’d never let anyone do the things I’ve now done to her, but I never once thought poorly of her because of that. Why should I?”

“Well, plus I’m sure as far as that was concerned that was - exciting, in its own way.”

“You think this wasn’t? It wasn’t the first cock I’ve had in my mouth, and it wasn’t the first mouth on yours, but it was the first time _we’ve_ done more than kiss one another,” Rylen pointed out, speaking slowly and intently. He cupped John’s face and turned it toward his so that he could hold his gaze. “I wanted this, I want you. I hope you believe that, and don’t let yourself doubt your desires just because you’ve never acted on them before.”

The smile that came to John’s face only hinted at any lingering hesitation, and he pulled Rylen back into a deep kiss. His fingers grasped at Rylen’s arms before slowly wandering to his shoulders and down his chest and back. The explorations were tentative but determined, and Rylen let himself simply relax into the kiss and curious caresses.

He had given them a gentle push, and now he could let John continue to move things along at his own pace.


End file.
